The Beast and the Beauty
by Clara Spencer
Summary: Samantha & Alexander have become friends through their letters but when Samantha meets Alex she finds that he is not a man but a beast.As Alex begins to trust Samantha to break his spell she in turn must learn that it takes more than eyes to see a person.
1. Chapter 1

I walked out of the plane and into the Heathrow Airport where I was promptly accosted by a steady stream of cheery sunlight. I closed my eyes and groaned. I had been up in the air for what felt like days. _How can a person get so exhausted from just sitting in a chair? _I thought to myself, _How is that even possible?!_ I just wished I could drop my purse onto the ground and take a little leaf out of sleeping beauty's book, get into some sort of thousand year nap; at least get rid of this awful sunshine. It felt like it was boring holes into my retinas. I thought England was supposed to be dreary. The way the Bronte girls went on about it you would think the island had never even seen the sun. If I had been in a better mood, with a pinch of sleep perhaps, my thoughts would've taken a more positive turn. It wasn't like being in England was some sort of awful punishment for me, I had been dreaming of going ever since Alexander and I had become close friends. That's actually the reason I was here now, Alexander.

My freshmen year of college I had signed up for this foreign exchange program where you volunteered to correspond with a student from another country. Yeah, I know it's basically a pen pal but I thought it would be fun. All the times we had ever done pen pals in elementary school I always seemed to get stuck with a really lousy one. My second grade pen pal never wrote me back, the one from third grade wrote only about her cat, and by fourth grade I had given up entirely. But I figured by college everyone would be mature enough to, if not write an interesting letter, at least compose one; and since it was a volunteer program my odds of getting someone who was just there because it was part of their grade thinned out a little.

I decided that my best bet was not to analyze the list for too long, to just pick a name and be done with it. I had arrived at the meeting a little late so many of the names on the List o' Pals were already taken. I scanned the page and signed my name next to the first one I saw: "Alexander Thompson- England."

That had been two years ago, Alex and I had been writing to each other ever since. Then, about a month ago, I'd gotten an IM from him, we had talked for a while and before I logged off for the night, he sent me another message: "I'd like to see you one of these days"

"Yeah?" I replied, not sure if he was serious or if it was just one of those 'I'll see you around' type phrases that people say but never really mean.

"No, seriously." He wrote back, "I don't want you to think I'm a creeper or anything…"

"Not a _total_ creeper" I typed, knowing he'd catch the sarcasm.

"Ha,ha." He wrote. "But, seriously…"

I had the feeling that despite his casual tone Alexander really did want to meet me, but was afraid to push it in case he accidentally ended up coming off as a crazy guy.

"Honestly? I would love to meet you for real. Actually have one of those old fashioned face to face conversations that I keep hearing about."

"But." He typed, anticipating me.

"But I hardly have enough money to pay for gas, much less a trip to Europe."

There was no reply for a full three minutes, unheard of in our conversations. Then…

"I could pay for you."

I couldn't seem to get my fingers to work the keyboard. He was willing to pay all of it? Did he really want to see me that badly?

"I would never be able to pay you back. Ever." I finally typed.

"I know." He replied instantaneously.

I voiced, or rather, typed what was really bothering me. "You really want to see me this much?"

"Sometimes you don't seem real." He confided to me. "I want to know that you're real."

My cursor blinked, moving in time with the ticking of the clock, and with the thoughts in my head. _Yes. No. Yes. No. _

"_I want to know you're real."_

"Yes." I typed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to my two reviewers, all reviews are welcome so feel free to do so! **

**Chapter Two**

I walked through the airport and down to the baggage carousel. After I had retrieved all my luggage I turned to look at the crowded airport, hoping to see someone coming over to greet me; holding up a sign with my name on it, anything. I began to wander through the throng of people who were coming and going, my anxiety increasing with every step. What if nobody came, or Alexander had gone to the wrong airport, or, or… as I slowly began to move from anxiety to panic about my current situation I came to a space in the building where the crowds had thinned out a little. In the center were about ten or twelve men and women holding signs, each one a different size but all bearing names on them in various handwritings.

My eyes travelled from sign to sign, hoping that I would find my name on one of them. At last, my gaze fell on a tall slim man holding a small whiteboard with the words "Samantha Miller" written in straight round letters. Relief surged through my body and I felt myself slowly relax the tight grip I had been clutching my luggage handles with. I walked over to the man. He was, as I said before, tall and thin, and was probably in his late thirties or early forties. The man reminded of someone who could've been a 007 back in the day, and still looked like he could do some damage if he wanted to. I walked over to him, his straight sleek persona making me feel even more aware of how tousled and messy I must've looked after a fourteen hour plane ride.

"Hi," I said, smiling. "I'm Samantha."

He looked down at me with hard black eyes, and I was glad that I wasn't some prankster trying to fool him. I got the impression that he would've known if I wasn't really who I said I was. But I apparently passed the test, because he gave me a warm smile and before I knew it had my right hand in a firm shake. "Welcome to England Miss Miller. I'm Jonathan Farrow, I work for Mr. Thompson. " He said in an eloquent English accent that reminded me again of James Bond. I got the curious urge to ask him to please say 'shaken not stirred' but I held my tongue.

"Thanks, I'm happy to be here."

As Mr. Farrow released my hand he said, "The car is waiting outside." and reached for my suitcases. I followed him, glad to have someone with me who actually knew where we were going. As we walked out into the daylight I saw a crowd of people pointing and whispering at something while they passed by. I craned my neck to see what they were fussing over and saw that it was a car parked on the curb. Even someone with no automobile knowledge, like myself, could see what an expensive thing this was. It was long, grey, and sort of box-like, with rounded edges. There were capital R's in the center of each silver hubcap and a hood ornament that looked kinda like an angel, but I couldn't be sure from where I was standing. I caught the words "Rolls Royce" and "Phantom Coupe" being said by various passersby, mainly the guys. _Wow_, I thought to myself, _wonder who owns __that__._

Then to my complete and utter surprise I saw Mr. Farrow pull out a set of keys, walk over to the car that was causing such a commotion, and open the trunk. I stopped walking, my eyes practically popping out of my head. _A Rolls Royce?! Jeez, no wonder Alex was able to pay for my trip, he's got a freaking Rolls Royce in his garage! _With the suitcases safely tucked away Jonathan closed the trunk and opened one of the doors to the backseat. Looking up and noticing that I was still about ten feet away from the car Jonathan called, "Miss Miller, are you coming?"

I gave my head a little shake and walked over to him. I smiled at him apologetically before getting in, "Sorry." I said sheepishly.

"Quite alright." Farrow said, almost looking like he was trying not to laugh. He closed the door, moved to the front seat and turned on the engine. Pulling out of the parking spot John turned his head a little and said, "Mr. Thompson lives just outside of Pertenhall so we'll arrive in little more than an hour and forty minutes. I nodded and began to move into a more comfortable position, not very difficult when you're sitting on leather seats in a Rolls Royce, I might add. I closed my eyes to the buildings and cars whizzing by and was soon fast asleep.

**Well, Samantha is on her way! We'll meet Alexander soon enough, I promise. I'm just trying not to rush anything. Hope it isn't moving to slow for anyone. **

**This is the Rolls Royce Phantom Coupe in case you wanted to see it. . **


	3. Chapter 3

_**Ugh, sorry I haven't updated in a while, I had a bunch of tests and I was studying practically every day. Thanks to my reviewers and everyone else who's read the story so far. Chapter 2 was kinda on the skimpy side. I tried to write as much as I could before buckling down on homework, but this chapter is longer, I promise. **_

**Chapter Three**

"Miss Miller," a voice called. I turned my head away, whatever it was would have to wait. I was too comfortable just now to…

"Miss Miller".

_No need to be so formal, Samantha will do._ I thought sleepily.

"Miss Miller. Wake up." I slowly opened my eyes, and looked up at the speaker, slightly disoriented. Okay, very disoriented; so much so that for a moment I wondered why my bed was being driven by a trim-looking British man. Then I remembered, the plane ride, England, Mr. Farrow. The person in question turned his eyes back to the road in front of him once he realized I was awake.

"We'll be arriving at Mr. Thompson's residence in ten minutes, if you'd like to freshen up." I nodded, hastily running my fingers through my hair in an attempt to get all the knots out. I pulled my compact out of my purse and glanced into it. _Not bad_, I thought to myself. _You only look like you've been sleeping for five days straight instead of fifty. _I shoved the mirror back into my bag and looked out the window. We were driving through a heavily forested area on something that might have been called a road back when it was first built. The path was only just large enough to accommodate the automobile we were in and seemed to have been long forgotten by even the hikers and bike enthusiasts. I looked back, expecting to see a hint of civilization peaking through the trees, but the forest had us surrounded. I faced front again.

"Where are we?" I asked, yawning.

"We're currently driving through the Argyre Forest, part of Mr. Thompson's estate." Mr. Farrow replied over his shoulder.

_He. Owned. His Own. Forest. _I could hardly get my mind to process it.

"How long have we been driving through? I asked nonchalantly, like all my friends had their own private woodland in the backyard.

"Forty-five minutes, I believe."

_Good Lord, We weren't even at Alexander's home yet and already his property was larger than a housing development. _

"The forest will give way to a view of the house in a few moments." Jonathan added before focusing his attention on the road once again.

I didn't want to pester him with any further questions, for the moment at least, so I followed his example and stared out the window. As I began to drift back into a comfortable sleep, the flora and fauna zooming past, I happened to look ahead. What I saw pushed away all fatigue and I let out an audible gasp.

Up ahead the forest ended and the small track we had been following transformed into a well kept dirt road. The road was bordered on either side by rolling hills covered in the greenest grass I had ever seen. The sun, before so unbearable to my tired eyes, now glinted and sparkled in the sky casting a glow that made the earth shine like emeralds.

"It's beautiful." I breathed. Jonathan nodded in approval.

"Wait until you see the house, Miss." He said, chuckling.

There was a pause, "You can call me Samantha, if you like." I suddenly blurted out. He was probably sick of calling a girl half his age "Miss", like she was the Queen of Sheba or something.

"Thank you… Samantha. But, I must decline, formalities have become a bit of a habit of mine. Besides," He said with a smile, "I would probably forget." He didn't sound like he was making excuses, and I knew he didn't really mind either way.

"Oh, okay." I said, leaning back in my seat, comfortable once more.

"Unless, of course," Mr. Farrow added, mistaking my tone. "You find it disconcerting."

"No, no," I said, quickly. "I don't mind. I just didn't want you to feel like you had to, that's all." He nodded once and we sat in silence for a while longer.

About ten minutes later we came to a bend in the road, and as we turned the corner I saw something white glinting on a hill. It was a house. Well, **house**, is an understatement. That was like calling the Palace of Versailles a small lean-to. This was a mansion, practically a castle. As we came closer I could see that it was more of a chateau than anything. The residency jutted out rather than up and from where I was I could see five chimneys growing, like stone trees, from a blue colored roof.

As we came closer to the grand house I caught sight of a stone wall encircling it. I instantly disliked that wall, it seemed out of place. I felt like it was blocking out all the warmth and color we were passing by, pushing it back and away. _You're being silly._ I told myself. _It's just a wall, with such a large estate it would be silly not to put something around it to keep people out. Besides, compared to the house it's practically a picket fence. _But I didn't like it all the same.

Instead of hard packed dirt the car began to drive over small white pebbles that covered the ground. The road took us straight up to the wall and I saw thick wrought iron gates blocking our way. The gateway was beautiful, a dark gray color that had been designed in such a way that it looked like roses had been woven in and out of the metal bars. On either side of the gate there were tall, thick square stone pillars, each with a lion standing on top. The one on the left seemed to snarl and paw at the ground, as if it were preparing to strike down anyone who dared slip past it without permission, but the one on the right was different. I couldn't say how or why, it looked just as strong and willing to fight as its brother did, but there was a sort of goodness carved into this lion, that could not be found in the other one.

Mr. Farrrow must have had some sort of electronic key with him because the gates opened automatically as we pulled up to them. We passed through and I heard the sound of them clanging shut behind me. The noise echoed in my head and I felt strangely claustrophobic for a moment, but as quickly as the feeling came it was gone.

The grounds were beautiful; there was nary a leaf or twig out of place. I felt like I had just walked into a painting done by a master artist. The house, what with its blue roof and sheer enormousness, seemed almost a part of the sky itself. There were two rounded towers that jutted out of the architecture and a countless number of windows. The car pulled to a stop and Jonathan came to open my door for me, but I was already out, stretching my tired legs and staring up at the building in front of me. Finally, I had arrived.

**Well we've made it to England and Alexander's house. Hurrah! I hope none of you have felt like it's a whole lot of nothing so far. We'll meet Alexander soon enough, and I'm toying with the idea of having him narrate a few chapters. As always review! Don't hold back… well hold back a ****little**** bit ******** Sooo, that's about it. I'm working on chapter four this very minute. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks Tiger Lily 21 for your well wishes on my test-taking skills, it must have helped; I got a B on one of them. Gold star for me! Thanks also to my two newest reviewers Popular Galinda (love the name and the musical), leader of lost destinies, and everyone else who read/reviewed. Enough talk from me, on with the story! **

**Chapter Four**

As I gaped up at Alexander's house Mr. Farrow busied himself with the luggage. Slipping past me he opened the front door, and I followed him inside. I should have been ready by now for the splendor that greeted me as I walked in, but I wasn't. Everything was magnificent, light filtered in through huge windows making the interior shine like new fallen snow. The walls were a soft white color that reached high up above me until they transformed into the ceiling. Then the white disappeared and in its place was a beautiful design full of blues and golds swirling and tumbling over each other, like someone had just poured liquid gold into the Atlantic. Lowering my gaze I turned my head side to side and saw large open doorways through which I caught glimpses of luxuriant sitting rooms full of paintings and sunlight.

Despite the fantastic environment I now found myself in I let out a sigh. It was all beautiful, to be sure, but where was Alex? When I had first arrived to see Jonathan at the airport instead of him, I had put it off as being some sort of old fashioned courtesy, he had been acquainted with me long enough to know that I wasn't the sort of person who would pass up the chance of having my own private chauffer for an hour or two. But the fact that he couldn't even bring himself to meet me when I arrived? That didn't seem like him.

Mr. Farrow interrupted my thoughts. "You're room is on the fourth floor, Miss Miller." He said briskly as he began to ascend the marble staircase. "If you follow me, I'll show you the way." I began to trail after him, but then stopped on the third step.

"Mr. Farrow?" I said abruptly.

"Yes?" He said, still climbing the stairs.

"Where's Alex?" I asked. The short silence that followed allowed my question to reverberate throughout the hall and came back to me in a soft murmur,_ Where's Alex, Where's Alex, Where's Alex…_. As if the house itself was trying to find him.

For a split second I saw Jonathan's shoulders tense, but then he turned to me, looking as calm as ever. He cut off the echo and said in a neutral tone, "Unfortunately, Mr. Thompson became ill with the flu late last night. He's still rather under the weather, but I'm sure he will be well soon enough." The conversation didn't seem to be one of discussion. As soon as he finished speaking he turned his back to me and resumed his steady climb up the stairs. I slowly trailed after him, turning his words over in my head.

I felt uneasy but I didn't understand why, Jonathan's tone of voice reminded me of something that I couldn't quite recall, like a song you can almost hear but don't exactly catch the melody of. Then it came back to me. I had been in a high school play once and I vividly remembered trying to help one of the cast members learn his lines. He had gotten them down pat soon enough, but no matter how many times we went over it, he never sounded like anything more than a man reading words off a page. That was what it had felt like when Jonathan had spoken, forced and unnatural.

_You're being silly and paranoid. _I told myself as I silently continued to follow Jonathan up the stairs. _What possible reason would Mr. Farrow, or Alexander for that matter, have to lie to you? _I couldn't come up with a logical reason and I realized how ridiculous I was being. People got colds all the time; I was jumping to conclusions because I was tired. The sooner I could lay down in a real bed and rest, the better.

I looked up and noticed Mr. Farrow giving me a side-long look before hastily glancing away. _He probably thinks you're sulking. _A small voice in my head said approach fully. Oh dear. In an effort not only to persuade him otherwise, but also to distract myself from my own thoughts I looked up, smiling and said, "This house is wonderful." I hated small talk, but I'd always preferred it to an uncomfortable silence so I was glad when Mr. Farrow nodded his head and said congenially. "I agree. It's very easy to overdo a place such as this." He said nodding his head at our general surroundings. "Put in too much wealth and grandeur, you know. But, I've always thought that it lent itself a sort of simple elegance." I looked around, he was right, the place was nice, but it wasn't too nice, everything was clean, well looked after and fairly expensive but the beauty of it all didn't suffocate you. Too much gold could be nauseating.

"The only problem," Jonathan said, with a grin and a huff. "Is the lack of vertical transportation, mainly, elevators." I opened my mouth so that I could demand he give my bags back to me and for God's sake rest for at least a minute. But before I could say anything Jonathan spoke again, "Here we are." He sounded only a little out of breath, which was saying something after climbing four flights of stairs holding luggage stuffed to the breaking point with clothes, shoes and other accessories. We walked down a long hallway covered in a thick dark blue carpet and lined with cherry wood doors, all shut and standing like silent sentinels against unwelcome visitors. I had the distinct feeling of being in a haunted house, but only for a moment. Even the most elaborate imagination would have had a hard time dreaming of this light open house as being haunted. Door after door we passed and I began to wonder if maybe I should've been counting them so that I would be able to find my room again later, but there was no need. At the end of the hallway another large window could be seen admitting light to even the darkest nooks and crannies, and to the left of this window is where Mr. Farrow now stood, patiently waiting for me to catch up. He gestured slightly at the door we were now standing in front of. "After you Miss Miller." He said. And with that I reached out to grab the knob and open the door.

**And the plot thickens… Alexander IS coming I promise, so don't give up hope quite yet. Update will most likely come by Saturday or Sunday. Keep up with the reviews! I really enjoy reading what you all have to say. **


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thanks reviewers and all who read the story. A tip of my hat to Popular Galinda for the hugs and cookies (they were delicious!) lol. Happy reading to all! **_

**Chapter Five**

I slowly opened the door, the smell of fresh air and flowers reaching me first. They touched my face, and gently pulled me into the large open room. On my right was a huge four poster bed, with white translucent hangings and a cream colored bedspread stitched all over with tiny green ivy, twirling around the cloth. Across from it was a large bureau, made from the same wood as the door. Farther down from was a large open doorway akin to the ones I had seen downstairs. But none of this could compare to what lay directly ahead of me. A window, twice my height and as wide as it was tall was situated across from the door. I walked towards it. _It looks large enough to let the whole sun in! _I thought. Looking through the glass I could see a decent sized pond down below, with willow trees planted next to it. From behind I heard Jonathan set my luggage down.

"The view is amazing." I said, turning towards him, I felt as if I could stare out that window all day and never get bored with it.

"It faces out to the east," Mr. Farrow said, conversationally. "Mr. Thompson insisted you have a window that looked out in that direction."

I looked back out the window again and grinned. Early on in our correspondence Alexander and I had discussed our favorite things and I had stated firmly that sunrises had always been better than sunsets.

"How is there a difference?" He'd asked, and I could almost hear the laughter in his question.

"There is a big difference." I'd stated, pretending to act horrified that he didn't notice the distinction.

"What is it then?"

"There's too much color in a sunset." I said bluntly.

"How can there possibly be too much color?" He asked, bemusedly.

"Believe me, there is. You know those Lisa Frank pictures with the dolphins and puppy dogs?"

"Yeah."

"Just like that, too much color."

"You realize you're comparing one of nature's greatest beauties to pictures of puppies and dolphins?"

"Hey, if the shoe fits..." I retorted.

"So why are sunrises better? They have color in them too." He argued good-naturedly.

"Yes, but they have just the right amount," I had explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "All those whites, and blues. It's so crisp and fresh looking. "

"Ha, I'll have to remember that." He'd said thoughtfully, and I guess he had. It was nice to know that he'd kept such a trivial thing about me in mind and I became all the more anxious to see him face to face.

"Dinner," Jonathan said, quickly bringing me back to the present. "Is served at seven, shall I call you down to the dining hall then?"

"Oh you don't have to do that." I said quickly. I wasn't used to being waited on so much; it was a little overwhelming.

"It's no trouble." He said, kindly. Suddenly I was tired of all this courtesy, I was a polite person by nature but I began to feel as if I was under a microscope, my every move being scrutinized for its civility. I just wanted to lie down and not have to worry about how polite or impolite I was acting.

"No, that's all right. Dinner's at seven?"

Jonathan nodded.

"I have an alarm on my cell; I'll set it to wake me up."

"I'll leave you to get settled then." He said, before walking to the door and silently closing it behind him.

I looked around my room again, and let out a little giggle of delight, everything was so big! As I turned in a small circle my eyes landed on the open doorway I had noticed earlier and I walked over to it. Inside was a study, I grinned. _I have my own study. _I instantly felt completely content as I looked around, for the perimeter was covered with shelves crammed from floor to ceiling with hundreds of books. Old leather books and new hardcover ones sat side by side in rows, waiting for the chance to be pulled down and read. I had always liked books and there seemed enough here to last me for years.

The carpet had ended at the doorway and hardwood floor with beautiful overlapping rugs now lay under my feet. Large cozy armchairs were scattered about the room with a few facing in front of a small fireplace. Roses and ivy, similar to the design I had seen wrought on the iron gates outside, had been carved into the marble so that it seemed like they were growing across the mantle and weaving their way down the sides. I wanted to examine the books and maybe pull a few down to place at my bedside for later, but a sudden wave of fatigue overwhelmed me and I knew I needed to rest quickly before I collapsed right then and there. I moved to go back to the bed, but then stopped. That bed was much too nice, and I was much too grungy to ruin it by laying down on its sheets as I was. I looked around confusedly; if my room had its own study it certainly had its own bathroom. But there were no signs of any other doors in my room besides the wardrobe and I highly doubted that that would lead me to a lavatory; Narnia, maybe, but not a bathroom. But where else could it be? Maybe I was wrong and I didn't have one after all, but there was sure to be one at least on this floor somewhere.

As I turned to leave the study I noticed one of the bookshelves to the left of the fireplace seemed to stick out more than the others. I crossed over to it and saw what looked like a crack of light emanating from behind it. No, this wasn't a secret doorway. That would be too far reaching, even for this house. But my hands gripped the side of the shelving anyway and pulled. The bookshelf came out further, but wouldn't open like a door. I bit my lip for a moment; thinking, then put both my hands flat out on the side and pushed, causing it to slide away smoothly to rest directly in front of the bookshelf it had, a moment ago been beside. I laughed out loud it was a secret passageway to a bathroom. I shook my head, still trying to absorb it. I took off my clothes as I went inside and climbed into the shower. This was just too cool.

Afterwards I slipped into some clean clothes, the jeans and cotton of my shirt feeling as soft and luxurious as satin compared to my grimy, slept in ones. I sat down on the bed, bouncing a litte while I turned my phone's alarm on. I wanted to read, explore the house and sleep all at once. But since I wasn't skilled enough to do all of them I decided the third one needed to be done first if I wanted to do the former two activities properly. It was about 3:30 so if I took a short nap now I would have time for a little reading before I had to go downstairs for…

The alarm rang, and I slowly opened my eyes. Looking down I could see that I was still holding my phone as it flashed and beeped. I sat up, bewildered, and looked out the window as I rubbed my eyes. The sun was gone and stars twinkled back at me from the sky. I crossed over to the bureau; looking into the mirror I quickly disentangled some of the more obvious knots my hair had tied itself into and then walked out into the hallway.


	6. Chapter 6

**Popular Galinda: 'Jerkin' I… like it! And I am now determined to incorporate it into my daily life by using it whenever I speak. Tiger Lily21 and Leader of Lost Destinies: I find your enthusiasm for Alexander ****very**** encouraging. It means the semi suspenseful environment I'm trying to create is working! I'm excited that you're excited. Thanks to everyone who favorited, reviewed, and read. **

**Chapter Six**

I walked quickly down the hall towards the staircase, sconces between each door lighting my way. If I hadn't been in such a hurry to go down to dinner I would have noticed how still everything was, the only noise that could be heard was that of my sneakers moving through the carpet as I passed door after door and then tip-tapping on hard marble as I stepped onto the staircase. Sliding my hand across the banister I began to look around at the paintings and decorations I was passing by, but stopped as I lunged slightly forward, my foot going straight down and not onto another stair step as I had thought. I looked up and realized I had reached the ground floor.

Turning left I walked through an open doorway and into a large sitting room with blue couches and a large fireplace. Two women in Grecian dresses supported the mantle on either side of the grate. A large mirror framed in burnished gold above showed a tall girl with dark circles under her brown eyes. I bit my lip as I surveyed my appearance and hoped that it was just poor lighting that accounted for my current sallow look. I had always been pale and while I didn't mind my fair skin the dark circles were always more evident after a late night than if I had had a more bronzed complexion. I shook my head; there was no help for it now, I was already late. I quickly smoothed out some of the wrinkles in my shirt, turned, and preceded on into the dining hall.

I was greeted by a long rectangular table, the kind you see in period dramas that could seat a hundred guests, piled with mounds of food. The aromas mingled together and filled the hall. Steam rose from various dishes. My rumbling stomach making me realize how hungry I was. Walking over to the table I realized that, while dozens of chairs were placed in neat rows side by side all the way down the table, only one place had been set. I let out a sigh and sat down. It was silly, but I had at least hoped I would be seeing Jonathan again. The thought was impractical though; even if he worked here he probably had a home and family of his own. I didn't blame him for wanting to sit down to dinner with them instead of me. I picked up my fork and tapped it lightly on my plate. Potatoes, chicken fillet, and a warm bun had already been served for me. If I was home right now I wouldn't be sitting in a big dining room eating by myself, but in my own tiny dorm; slurping soup and nibbling oyster crackers with my friends, or even snacking on the couch at my mom and dad's since it was the weekend. My stomach rumbled once more, refusing to wait any longer with food so close at hand. I put my musings aside and lifted the soft bread to my mouth, everything was delicious. The biscuit light and airy, with butter melting through the bread, the chicken wasn't too chewy but not flimsy either. I laughed softly, feeling like Goldilocks: "_Not too hot, not too cold, but just right." _looking up I noticed three bottles, one with clear sparkling water inside, the other two containing a golden liquid that shimmered in the lamplight. Reading the labels I discovered one was champagne and the other sparkling cider. Putting my fork down I reached for the cider, the bottle still ice cold from the refrigerator it had no doubt been in before the meal. While the champagne was probably the best that money could buy I left the bottle unopened. I had never really been one for alcohol, and didn't exactly relish the idea of the headache I would no doubt receive from it the next morning.

The only sound in the room was of the fork and knife scraping across the china as I ate. It was odd to be in a place so quiet, I had always been surrounded by noise before, whether it was the steady hum of the television a couple rooms away or the voices and laughter of my friends and family as we talked and told each other stories. Here there wasn't anything, not a cough or a murmured voice to be heard, just the silence. My ears strained, and I waited for some small sound to emanate through the house. A door softly closing or a silent curse as someone dropped a book or a pan. But nothing ever came. Finishing my meal I looked around, waiting for someone to come silently in and start taking away the uneaten food. Nothing happened. I stood up and moved to look through some of the doors in front of me. After going through a couple and finding no hint as to where the kitchen might be I returned to the dining room to find that everything had been cleared away in my absence. I blinked a couple of times, my mouth hanging open. _Well you can't say they aren't efficient_. I thought to myself. Moving closer I eyed the cream-colored table cloth, not a crumb or wrinkle was to be seen. It was as if no one had ever eaten there at all. It shouldn't have been weird, but it was. If the work staff was that quiet who was to say that they weren't around all the time without me ever knowing? I pivoted around quickly; half expecting to see someone dart back through a doorway, but there was no one there. I forced my muscles to relax. I didn't like the idea of someone watching me without me knowing. It was creepy. Not wanting to stay in the room any longer I fled back upstairs, wishing to see someone, anyone. Just so I could know that I wasn't the only one here. _You're_ _not the only one here. _A voice said soothingly. _Alexander is here too. _The thought was only of minimal comfort. At the moment I needed visual proof. Stepping back into my room I remembered that I wasn't totally disconnected from the world, I still had my phone, and I had brought my laptop along as well. I pulled it out of its case and set it up on my bed. Laying down on the mattress I typed in my password was relieved to find that there was a fairly good Wi-Fi connection out here. I had promised my family I would email them as soon as I could after arriving. Checking my account I saw that my mom had beat me to the punch.

_Hi Sammy, _

_Did you have a good flight? I hope you made it there okay. Be sure you get some sleep tonight, I know how exhausting jet lag can be. How's Alex? I won't keep you too long, I'm sure you both are excited to see each other. Email me back as soon as you get this! _

_Love, Mom. _

I smiled and clicked 'reply' then stopped abruptly, my fingers hovering over the keys, thinking what to say. I couldn't exactly tell her that I hadn't seen anyone since arriving because Alex had quarantined himself in his room. Deciding to keep the subject of Alexander out of the message entirely I started to type.

_Hey Mom, _

_The flight was long and I was super tired afterwards, but don't worry, I'll go to bed early (if I don't accidentally fall asleep writing this, that is). My room is really great, it's got its own library and everything, plus the view is amazing. I miss you guys a bunch! Tell everyone I said hi. _

_Love, Sam. _

Too tired to go into detail, even if I'd wanted to, I hit 'send' and closed my computer. Hopping off the bed I stretched and yawned. Looking forlornly at my suitcases I threw my previous idea away of unpacking tonight and instead pulled my pajamas out, and quickly changed into them. Deciding to risk the wrath of my dentist I jumped into bed without digging out my toothbrush. It was gross, yes; but travelling, whether it was to another state or another country always messed up my daily routine; even the basic preliminary ones. Turning my head, so I could easily see out the window, I fell asleep, moonlight casting shadows all through my bedroom.

**I haven't updated in soo long and I apologize, my teacher's are just laying on the tests. But there will be updates! How soon they come is still up for debate. **


	7. Chapter 7

**As some of you pointed out Alex still hasn't made an appearance, but it was still Sam's first night there and I didn't think the timing was quite right. I have a very specific idea of how they're going to meet and I'm excited to say that it is happening in chapter eight, which is written and downloaded so no one has to wait after chapter seven! PLEASE don't skip ahead! Read ch. 7 first! Thanks to kate5 for being my 20****th**** reviewer! **

**Chapter Seven **

THIRD PERSON

Mr. Farrow tripped lightly up the stairs, up one set and then another until he was fifteen stories high. His black leather shoes moved across the carpet; passing door after door he glanced neither left nor right. Suddenly the hall forked off into two different directions, the man turned left without hesitation and continued on. The hall he now traversed didn't split as the others had, but simply ended, a wall blocking him from further travel. As Farrow came closer and closer to the wall his frown deepened, yet he did not slow his pace until he was almost upon the barrier. When he was just a foot away he stopped and turned his head to the right, and stared at the alcove that lay in front of him. A leafy green plant had made its home there, atop a tall thin wooden table. Mr. Farrow's brow furrowed, as he stared at the vegetation. Any passerby would have thought that he was attempting some sort of trick and would have waited, perhaps, in hopes that the plant might begin to levitate, or even burst into flames. Nothing of the sort happened, of course, Farrow continued to gaze at the plant and the plant in turn sat dutifully in its potted soil. After what seemed a day, the man slowly closed his eyes; letting out a sigh he ran a hand over his face: a vain attempt to smooth away the lines of frustration and anger that had formed there. Opening his eyes once more Jonathan moved the table and plant away from the niche to reveal a small golden ring bolted to the middle wall. Grasping the handle he slowly pulled. A low rumbling sound of stone upon stone could be heard as the wall became a door and Jonathan walked inside.

The room he entered into was large and dim. There was a window, though hardly any light crept through it, for night had already come and the moon was blocked by clouds. Two very small lights were on, but pushed onto a table in the corner, only enough light to make out objects and shapes, not colors or faces. Jonathan came to the middle of the room and faced the backs of two armchairs that had been placed in front of a fast empty fireplace, ash still clinging to its grate. A dark figure sat in one of them and this is who Jonathan now addressed.

"I've had enough of this." Jonathan said without preamble, "It's been a week already and you haven't spoken two words to that girl. She's still under the pretence your sick, it's ridiculous."

If Jonathan expected an answer from the figure he received none, only silence met his words.

"How long do expect to keep this up?" He demanded, "She's not stupid you know, she's going to figure it out eventually, and when she does she's going to want answers."

At this Jonathan stopped short, his breathing as loud as a maelstrom in the quiet room. A little more softly he added, "You can't just sit in here, alone, while she wanders the house week after week. Sooner or later you have to do something." Running a hand through his hair, he began to move back the way he came, but stopped suddenly and turned to look at the figure once more. "Either you tell her or you send her home. If _you_ don't, then _I_ will." And with that, he walked out, and shut the door.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

SAMANTHA

I stepped out of my room, yawning. I had finally gotten over my jet lag, thank God. It was so nice to be able to fall asleep without your head telling you it was really two in the afternoon. Walking downstairs I headed to the dining room for breakfast, it was hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls today. While I chewed, I thought about the various ways I could waste time. A week had passed since I'd come and there was still no sign of Alex. Not wanting to think of this too much, I pushed it out my head, and considered other things. The house didn't have too many rooms set up with entertainment in mind, many rooms I came to had only chairs and books, and while I had spent the first few days reading, it wasn't something that I could do forever. But just yesterday I had found a music room with a grand piano right in the center, and the day before: a swimming pool. None of these ideas seemed quite right though and I finally decided that fresh air was what I really needed.

It felt good to be outside; sitting down next to the pond by my window I took off my shoes and slipped them into the water. The heat of the sun on my face balanced with the coolness of the water felt so nice, I closed my eyes and lay back on the grass. Ten minutes passed as I lightly dozed, a small breeze flew through the trees and down into my hair. Listening to the whisper of the leaves I suddenly opened my eyes. Somebody was watching me. I sat up swiftly and turned around, no one. Looking up at the house I saw a curtain move out of the corner of my eye but as I turned to look I saw that the window held no occupant. I stared at the house quizzically, like I could will whoever had been there to come back again. Standing up I brushed the grass off my jeans and grabbed my shoes, heading back towards the house. The window had been on the fifteenth floor, I didn't have anything better to do so I decided to go up and investigate.

Finally making it all the way up, I stopped for a minute to catch my breath. I was really starting to hate stairs. Moving down the hall I began counting the rooms until I came to the twelfth one, the one with the stranger in the window. Grabbing the doorknob I was happy to find it wasn't locked. I seemed to face that predicament with many of the doors I came to here; I figured a lot of them were just more sitting rooms, but another part of me wondered if they were locked for some other reason. There weren't any surprises to be seen here though, just cream colored couches and chairs with mahogany wood. I gave an exasperated sigh and looked above the fireplace at a painting of a beautiful blond woman wearing a sparkling blue dress. She was holding a small bouquet of white flowers in her hand and smiling impishly. "I don't suppose you saw anything did you?" I asked the lady, sarcastically.

"Miss Miller?" I swiveled around quickly and saw Jonathan standing in the doorway. "Who are you talking to?"

"Oh, uh, nobody." I said, blushing violently. "I was just… looking… at something."

"Hmm," He said, and glanced up at the woman's portrait. "Lunch is ready if you're hungry." Jonathan said, looking back down at me before he turned and left the room. I peeked back at the window once more, hoping to see something that had slipped my notice before. But nothing had changed.

I wasn't very hungry, I always woke up late, jet lag or no; but I didn't have anything better to do so I went back down to the dining room. This was becoming monotonous. All I ever did was wander around this stupid house by myself with nothing to do, traveling from room to room until finally the day was over and I went back to yet another room and ate. I felt like an animal, stuck in a cage. I wanted to do something, anything, to change the routine; but couldn't see how. I just kept wandering around. The thought of Alex was always in the back of my mind when I did this, hoping beyond hope that I might "accidentally" bump into him. But this never happened. I sat down and reached for the juice, not even bothering to see what was on my plate, but stopped. A note sat in front of me, propped up slightly by the stem of my glass. The name "Samantha" was written out in smooth cursive on the envelope. Turning the note over I ripped it open looking at the signature on the bottom I saw it was from Alex and started to read it anxiously.

Dear Sam,

I'm sorry you haven't been able to see much of me this past week…

I snorted, that was an understatement if I ever heard one.

…but I realized very soon after your arrival that your coming here was a mistake. I'm sorry to have dragged you all the way down here on a whim. But I think it's best if you simply went back home. I'm sorry Samantha.

-Alex

I looked down at the paper, shocked, whatever I had expected it wasn't this. Who did he think he was? He invites me all the way down to his stupid house, doesn't even have the decency to see me and then basically tells me to shove off without even a wave goodbye. I checked the back of the note, looking for a sign that this was all just a practical joke, albeit a very cruel one. Nothing...inside the envelope… nothing. Not even a plane ticket for the ride home! This was unbelievable. I crumpled the paper with my fist and stormed out of the room. If he thought he could treat me like some kind of plaything; pick me up and then throw me back down again when he was bored he had another thing coming. I stomped upstairs, determined to find him. Confront him and… I don't know yell at him, most likely. I opened doors at random on various floors, slamming them closed again when I didn't find him.

After half an hour I retreated back to my room, tired and frustrated. I dropped down onto my bed and rubbed the heels of my palms over my eyes. I didn't _understand_ it! Alex and I were friends, we had been for two years. Why did he suddenly have this great need to get away from me? If he didn't like me, fine, but could he have maybe figured that out before I travelled three thousand miles to visit him? Well, I wasn't leaving, not until I spoke to him face to face at least; and if my presence was such an nuisance to him, all the better, if he was going to be spiteful and unpleasant, than so was I.

I stayed in my room for the rest of the day, wallowing in my bad mood. I didn't go down to dinner either; I was too upset to be hungry. What's more a little part of me was nervous that if I did go down someone would be waiting there to escort me out the door. At eight I heard someone knock quietly outside my room. Maybe Alex had come after realizing I wouldn't be so easily moved. I walked slowly to the door, the more he had to wait for me, the better. "Who is it?" I called out in a voice I knew was rather on the snobbish side, but was too annoyed to care.

"Jonathan, Miss." A muffled voice answered. My expression fell, hoping that he hadn't come to forcibly kick me out I opened the door.

"Yes?" I asked with a sigh.

"I-"Jonathan began, but my expression must have given me away because he stopped abruptly and asked, "What's the matter Miss Miller?"

As I formed a curt reply in my head I saw a look of true confusion in Mr. Farrow's face. Maybe… maybe he didn't know? But that was impossible, how could he not know? I had gotten the impression that he was sort of Alex's right-hand man in this place. I crossed my arms in front of me and looked at him skeptically before speaking.

"Perhaps it's because of the letter I received today."

Jonathan looked even more confused. "Letter?" he replied quizzically.

I dropped my hands to my sides and my eyes widened. He wasn't joking, he had no idea what had gone on today. I stared at him. "You really don't know?"

"Miss Miller I'm sure it would become clearer to me if you simply told me." He said bluntly. I looked down at my shoes.

"Alex sent me a letter today saying that…" I swallowed and felt tears suddenly begin to well up in my eyes. _Don't you dare cry_ I said to myself and took a small breath before going on. "…saying that he didn't want me in the house anymore. That I should leave." I heard Jonathan suck in a breath quietly, and looking up noted that his expression was, while not exactly livid, not as calm as it had been a couple seconds ago.

"May I see the note?" He asked, and I could tell he was trying hard to keep his voice composed. I went back into my room and picked it up from where it had fallen after I had thrown it down in disgust. Returning I handed it to Jonathan and watched as he scanned its contents. He stared thoughtfully at the note for several moments after he finished reading, as I had.

I broke through his reverie and said, "You know I'm beginning to question whether Alex even exists or not." He looked up from the paper and smiled wryly.

"Oh, no, he exists Miss Miller."

A new thought popped into my head, "And, you're not him… are you?" I asked, feeling foolish.

Farrow's eyes widened in shock, "What do you mean?"

"It's just, you're the only one I've ever seen around here and I was starting to wonder…" I babbled, heat rising to my cheeks.

"If I had some sort of personality disorder?" He finished for me. "Miss Miller, I assure you, you are not in some sort of Hitchcockian thriller." He smiled wryly. "Mr. Thompson and I are both completely separate individuals, mentally and physically." I gave him an apologetic smile, as he returned the note to me. I glanced at it before I spoke again.

"Then why hasn't he seen, me? Why didn't he have the decency to at least come and explain to me why I'm suddenly being kicked out? Why…" Mr. Farrow interrupted my string of questions.

"I think," he said slowly, "that these are questions that only Mr. Thompson can answer."

I was at once completely alert. "Then, you'll show me where he is?" I asked, suddenly hopeful once more. He nodded, his mouth set firmly.

"Come with me." He said, and I followed him down the hall.

**If anyone cares: The painting of the woman Sam sees in the beginning of this chapter is modeled somewhat off of the famous painting of the Empress Elizabeth of Austria, with some slight changes of my own. But the posture is the same for both. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Here we go… **

**Chapter Eight**

SAMANTHA

I followed Jonathan up eleven flights of stairs until we came to what was apparently the right one. Recognizing the layout I realized we were on the same floor I had seen the figure in the window. My stomach coiled in knots and my heartbeat quickened. Farrow moved quickly down the hall and turned left as we came to an intersection. I had to jog a little to catch up with him. I got the feeling he was doing this against his better judgment, and I felt a rush of gratitude that he thought of me well enough to forgo Alexander's wishes and help me instead . I saw up ahead that the hall was a dead end and I began to look at the doors on either side of me and began to wonder which had Alex on the opposite side. I felt like I was in some old game show, pick the door with the prize behind it and win. Finally Jonathan stopped and I slowed my pace there was only one door left in the hallway, the opposite wall had only an alcove with a potted plant in it. I waited for him to step over and open the door but he didn't do anything.

"Mr. Farrow?" I asked, hesitantly.

He looked in my eyes, as if he was trying to discern if I was really worth all the trouble he was going through. "Alexander has said that you are one of his closest friends." Jonathan said suddenly. I thought over this statement, confused. Then why was he was he acting the way he was? I wondered. But despite my recent frustrations I grinned. It should've seemed odd – this was a person whom I'd never met before, if we had passed each other on the street neither of us would've known it. But it wasn't odd; I felt exactly the same way. John wasn't finished though… "He's a good person, Miss Miller. I've known him for quite a long time and I can tell you that with absolute confidence." I nodded my head, his words slightly loosening the knots in my stomach. Suddenly, Mr. Farrow stepped into the alcove we had been conversing next to and took away the leafy plant and the table it had been standing on and set them both down just outside the niche. I stared at him confusedly. "Mr. Thompson is through there." He said, gesturing to the alcove. Okay, this guy was truly nuts whatever he had said before. But I leaned over slightly anyway to look where he was pointing and saw a golden door handle that had, up until now been hidden by the green plant. Before I could say anything Jonathan was moving away, back down the hall towards the staircase. I started to reach out for the door handle. "Samantha." I looked up, surprised when I heard him say my first name. John gave me a small smile and nodded. "Good luck." And with that he descended the stairs and was out of sight.

_Good luck? _I wondered nervously. I could feel the tempo of my heart quicken once more as I turned to face the door again. I had the sudden urge to turn, go back downstairs and leave like Alex had wanted me to. But I couldn't, I was literally on the threshold of seeing him, I wasn't going to turn tail and run now. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

I walked in and looked around, or tried to anyway. The room was in total darkness, the light from the hallway seemed unable to pass into the room as I had, the door was so heavy that it slowly closed by itself and I was submerged into darkness. As my eyes slowly adjusted I realized the room wasn't completely dark, there were two small lamps in a corner but they seemed to be casting only the barest amount of light they could without actually putting the room into further darkness. From what I could see there were large windows, but large heavy blinds covered them and to my left were armchairs

"What is it Jonathan?" A voice asked from one of the armchairs.

A shiver ran down my back, the voice was completely unlike anything I had ever heard. It sounded hoarse and unused. Harsh and grating.

"A-actually," I stuttered. And I felt, rather than saw, the person in the chair tense. "Jonathan's downstairs."

There was absolute silence then, "You were supposed to leave."

I let out a snort of disbelief, "Did you honestly think I was just going to leave because you told me to? You didn't even give me a reason."

"I shouldn't have to."

"Yes, you should, and if you remember correctly, _you _wanted to see _me _not the other way around. If I had known you were such a total and complete jerk in person I wouldn't have agreed to come here in the first place, and you wouldn't had had to bother with me at all. Not that you have." All this came out in a great rush. I could feel my face getting hot, I wasn't one for spouting off and I had just done some major venting.

He let out a deep sigh, "Sam. I'm sorry." He said, and sounded truly apologetic. "You're right, it was wrong to make you come all this was for nothing. But you need to leave." I could feel my whole body slump down in sadness. To read the words on paper was one thing but to have them actually said straight to my face was another, they hit me like a blow and all my anger abandoned me.

My voice came out shaky and filled with unshed tears. "I thought…" I said, then stopped. "I don't know what I thought, that we were friends I guess.

"We _are_ friends." He said emphatically.

"Then why are you sending me away without me even seeing you? I still haven't seen you."

He let out a mirthless bark of laughter. "That's just the thing," he said, quietly. "I don't want you to."

"I don't understand." I said, confused.

"I'm not…" he paused, fumbling for the right word. "like other people."

I was still puzzled "Well everybody's different, I guess. I mean…" He cut me off.

"No, that's not it." He spoke so quietly, I leaned forward to catch his words. "I don't _look _like other people because I'm not a person."

The question that I didn't want to ask formed on my lips anyway and came out in a whisper. "Then what are you?"

He said it sadly, like he knew it was the truth but still wished it to be otherwise, "I'm a beast."

This was too much, my head screamed at me to leave, told me that this guy was obviously nuts. But I didn't move; I couldn't. I stood there for several moments, completely speechless, until finally he spoke again.

"You don't believe me."

I found my voice, "Of course not! Beasts… don't live in big stone mansions in the country, they can't talk. They eat wild animals in the forest and hibernate during the winter." I thought belatedly of the big forest I had travelled through to get here, but pushed it out of my mind.

He chuckled again, grimly. "Come look at me." he said simply.

_Well, this is what you wanted. _A smug voice in my head told me. I took a deep breath and started to slowly move forward, my head all the while telling me to stop and go the other way. I didn't look up as I reached the armchair, or as I turned to face the person sitting down in it. Looking at the carpet I noticed the light was a little brighter here, or maybe it was just the fact that I had adjusted my vision enough to see clearly. I kept my eyes trained on the floor until I heard him say, "It's all right, Sam." That suddenly gave me courage and I slowly started to move my gaze upward, and when I did I gasped.

He hadn't been lying. He was a beast. His whole body was covered in brown fur, his arms looked strong enough to lift a truck with ease. His hands were huge, with claws at the end of each fingertip that were so sharp they made shark teeth look like plastic butter knives. Even though he was sitting he was as tall as me, maybe even taller. I probably would have noticed it earlier if it hadn't been for the high backed chair he was sitting in and the fact that there was so little light in the room. Looking into his face was the worst. There were no remotely humanoid expressions there, no way of reading his thoughts or emotions. He kept his eyes down as mine wandered over him, taking in all of it. Suddenly he lifted his eyes to meet mine and I gasped again. They weren't slit like a cat's or yellow like a wolf's but a deep bright green that reminded me of the rolling hills I had passed outside. It was totally unexpected, but at the same time, a comfort. It made me forget for a moment his fur, and his size, and strength and think instead of all the letters and conversations we had shared and how excited I had been to come here and meet him. Then he looked away, and I was reminded once more of everything else he was.

Suddenly conscious of the fact that I was beginning to stare I pulled my gaze down to the floor once more, pretending to be enamored with the texture and color of the carpet. I didn't know what to say and so remained silent. I sensed his gaze shifting towards me and now our situations were reversed; he was the one staring as I pointedly looked away.

"Well…" he said, and seemed just as much at a loss for words as I was.

"I didn't know." I whispered.

"Of course you didn't know, I made it a point for you not to know." He said, and stood up suddenly. I had been right, looking at him out of the corner of my eye I could see that he was easily seven feet tall and I involuntarily shrunk back a step. He didn't seem to notice and passed by me as he walked towards one of the large windows on my left. He stood in front of the curtains as he ran a hand through his disheveled mane.

I spoke up as I absorbed this information. "But, you must have known I'd figure it out sooner or later. Once you invited me here, that is."

He laughed quietly to himself. "Jonathan said just about the same thing."

"Then why did you? Ask me to come here, I mean."

He didn't speak for several moments, but I waited. "Honestly? I don't know. The day I invited you, I didn't think… I didn't _want _to think of the repercussions of my seeing you-of your seeing me. You were my closest friend."

"My only friend." He said after another pause, and then went on quickly. "Whenever I got letters from you, or chatted with you online it was- great. It made me forget about everything else, and I wanted more.

"More?" I asked nervously.

He swiveled around suddenly and I forced myself to keep my gaze steady, to not look away. "No," he said quickly, fumbling. "I only mean I wanted to talk to _you_, not just read letters from you or IMs from you but have an actual conversation with you in the same room. Not one from a billion miles away."

"Oh." I said, nodding my head. That's what I had wanted too. But would it be the same now? I had come here expecting to meet a guy; an actual human being. I had never expected this. Would it be the same? I would never say it out loud to him, but I didn't see how it could.

He started talking once more and I pushed myself back into the present. "I knew it wasn't going to work." He said, voicing the same thoughts that had just been running through my head. "I knew it as soon as I asked you here, before you even said yes. I tried to figure out a way to tell you not to come before you arrived. But I could never think of a valid reason. Every excuse I came up with seemed so vapid and flimsy. I knew you'd be able to see right through it." He shrugged his shoulders, and gave me a small half-smile. "I've never been a really terrific liar. I was afraid that if you found out you'd stop writing altogether." I remembered the lie he'd had Jonathan tell me on my first day here: ill with the flu. It had been rather transparent, even at the time. I felt guilty for being so angry with him, the whole time I had thought that he just didn't want to see me. I had never stopped to even consider the idea that maybe he didn't want me to see him. My eyes had returned to the fascinating examination of my tennis shoes and I said to him without looking up.

"So when I got here, what did you do? You must have figured it was too late to send me home."

"That was the problem, I knew all the things I couldn't do but couldn't figure out the one thing to do."  
"So you did nothing." My tone was accusing without my meaning it too be.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no. It's not your fault." I said, trying to make him feel better.

"You're not a very good liar either, are you?" he asked and I grinned slightly.

"Guess not."

"Jonathan finally gave me an ultimatum of sorts, meet you or send you home. I couldn't figure out a way to meet you, I didn't want to just pop up at random without giving you any proper warning, so I decided to go the other route. Kinda back fired though, didn't it?"

"I was too mad to leave. I felt like, if I stayed you'd get so annoyed with me you'd finally come out and face me." I explained. My reasoning made him laugh out loud, a sound between a small roar and a loud bark that had me shaking in my skin. A clock suddenly struck the hour somewhere, and I jumped at the sound. My nerves were becoming frayed at the edges. I saw Alex look towards the sound and sigh; turning back to me he caught and held my gaze once more. I couldn't look away and after a few moments he broke eye contact.

"It's getting late, I'll let you go." He said.

I smiled. It was how we usually ended all our nightly conversations, and I thought how odd it was that the person I had spent so many late nights chatting with was the same one standing in front of me, completely unlike anything I had ever imagined him to be. He must have seen my smile fade and he sounded unhappy, "Bye Sam." He said.

"Bye." I answered softly and finally headed my mind's wishes and headed toward the door. I opened it and looked back; he still stood there, watching me. "I'll see you tomorrow." I said, and it came out like a question.

"You will?" He asked, taken aback.

"Well yeah, I mean it's a big house, but we'll probably run into each other sooner or later." I said, mistaking his meaning.

"You're not leaving?" he asked bewildered.

I bit my lip as I leaned against the door. I hadn't even considered it somehow. Making up my mind I shook my head firmly. "No. No I'm not going to leave."

"Alright," he said, still sounding dazed. "I'll see tomorrow then." And with that I walked left the room, shutting the door softly behind me.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine **

ALEXANDER

I slid down to the floor and let out a sigh, thinking of what had just happened. She'd seen me. She knew what I was. I didn't know how I could do it again, see her again. The first time alone had been hard enough. The memory of her standing over me played again and again in my head. She hadn't screamed, or fainted, or rushed frantically out of the room. All possible emotions and scenarios I had thought of, and anticipated, hadn't taken place. She just stood there, eyes wide with fear, stood there like she was rooted to the floor, tense and shuddering. And as much as I wanted her to look away, leave and forget she had ever seen me; another part of me wanted her to stay. It had been so long since I'd spoken to any other human being besides Jonathan. I remembered how she had been able to at least make an effort at conversation, how her curiosity had somewhat overcome her fear, and it gave me hope. It had been our first true meeting, yes, but we had known each other longer than just that brief moment. Maybe I could help her remember; to think past this creature she was seeing and keep in mind the person she had talked with all those times online and in letters. If she could see me like that then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I closed my eyes in frustration, it shouldn't be like this! I shouldn't be trapped in my own house for God's sakes. If it hadn't been for that… no, I couldn't think of that now. Not with Sam here, I wouldn't. I wasn't completely isolated anymore, I wasn't completely alone. I just need to show her who I really was, it would be better then, it had to be.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

SAMANTHA

I walked slowly back to my room, completely dazed by what had just happened. What I had just seen. I wondered how I could be so calm, even now at this very moment I was in a house with a… a beast, a shiver ran up my body at the thought of it. No house could be big enough to make me comfortable with the idea of both of us being in it together. I think maybe I had gone into shock, and for that I was glad. I had the oddest feeling that I was watching all this unfold from a distance. But as I came closer and closer to my room I began to feel less like an observant spectator and more like the active participant I was. My legs began to weaken and I knew they wouldn't support me much longer. I stopped in the hallway I was in and leaned heavily against the wall, trying to take long deep breaths. I closed my eyes and ran a hand over the wood, feeling the texture and engravings carved into it. I focused on the feeling of it under my fingertips and tried to steady myself. This at least was substantial, there were no surprises or changes to _this_, and that feeling of regularity made me calmer.

I tried to run over what had just happened slowly, rationally, so as not to work myself into a complete panic. But thinking of the beast again-no, of Alex, if I was going to think of him with any humanity I had to think of him as Alex. Thinking of him again was difficult. He was so monstrous; everything about him was fierce and threatening. The mere memory of his voice made me shudder, it had been harsh and unused, and there was a constant growl in all his words that I had never heard in any other person's voice ever before. I could feel myself becoming nervous again and tried to focus on something less terrible, I tried to recall something, anything that hadn't inspired automatic fear in me. Then I remembered his eyes. They had been human, and for the brief moment when our two gazes had met I was able to forget slightly the other, more terrifying, features. I clung to that memory. As long as I could remember his eyes I could remember that he wasn't completely animal. I opened my own eyes now and looked down at my hand, which, it seemed, had moved from the wall of its own accord and was now curled into a fist by my side, nails biting into my palm. Stiffly I unclenched them and pushed myself away from the support of the timber. I could do this, I told myself feebly. _You have to even if you don't want to_, the tiny and annoyingly sensible voice in my head told me. _You promised you wouldn't leave._ I stopped short eyes growing wide as I remembered the last part of our conversation

'You're not leaving?' he had asked.

And my foolish response, 'No. No I'm not going to leave.' I cursed silently as I began to meander down the hall once more. Why had I said that? _Because you're too polite for your own good. _I grumbled to myself. It hadn't exactly been a promise, I reasoned as my feet took me into my own familiar hallway and down to my room. Nothing's really tying me down, I can still leave. But the idea seemed cowardly and shameful. I imagined myself slinking out into the night and catching a ride to the airport, my family's shocked expressions when I came home after only a week away. Then I thought of Alex, and what he had said, "You were my closest friend." and then more quietly to himself, "My only friend."

I imagined myself in his position: never going out into the world, never speaking to anyone, trapped in an empty building with nothing but my own thoughts to occupy myself. And then repeating that cycle: day after day, year after year. I shuddered away from the idea; I had experienced something of the sort over the course of this last week. I didn't think I would be strong enough to endure it on a long term basis and suddenly it wasn't fear that had me in its grip, but pity. I couldn't leave, all promises aside. It wouldn't be right, and I would feel awful for doing so. So I went into my room, took a shower, put on my pajamas and climbed into bed. He was still Alex, I had to try and see him like that.


	10. Chapter 10

**Yodeling Pickels, here are her pajamas: bedheadpjs. com/ Shopping / ?NcIctId=5&NcFsId=159 Thanks to the newest reviewer Irene! I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SO LONG. Everyone has probably given up on me, but for those who haven't… thank you! **

**Chapter Ten**

SAMANTHA

I didn't see Alex at all the next day, and for that I was glad. It gave me some time to think over everything that had happened the other night with a clearer head. But I was still anxious; I kept imagining that I saw him out of the corner of my eye, but every time I turned to look there was no one there. I didn't go searching for him again though; there wasn't any reason for him to hide from me anymore. If he wanted to find me he would.

Later that night I walked down to dinner, looking up as I entered the dining room I stopped short. A tall figure was standing with his back to me, leaning on the large fireplace across from the doorway I was in. He was silhouetted against the light emanating from the chandelier above. My heart started beating harder in my chest as I walked slowly into the room, my eyes never leaving the Beast… leaving Alex… as I travelled towards my customary seat at the table. As I began to draw the chair back he stood upright and pulled his hand away from where it had been resting on the mantle, "Hello Samantha." He said softly, turning his head a little towards the direction I was standing in. My hand froze and I sucked in a quiet breath. _Don't freak out, this is Alex. You know him. He's your friend. _I slowly looked up to see that, very like myself, he had hardly moved.

"Hello." I whispered, and dropped my hand from the chair back. He turned to look at me and I was able to hold his gaze for a quick moment before looking down again while he continued to stare at me. It made me uncomfortable, but it was only fair I thought, suddenly remembering how long and hard I had studied him the other night. He abruptly moved away from the hearth and further towards the table.

"Is it okay if I have dinner with you tonight?" He asked. His tone was one of a person trying to gradually persuade a small animal to come over to them. I stood up straighter; not wanting him to think I was afraid, even if I might have been. I was too proud for that. Moving my eyes away from the floor I glanced up at him and squared my jaw before looking away again, this time trying my hardest to be indifferent and shrugged my shoulders.

"Yeah, that's fine." I answered, happy to find that my voice hardly quavered at all when I spoke. "It's your house after all."

"Yes," he said, fidgeting with the tablecloth. "But you're the guest."

I sat down to prove to him how relaxed about it I was. "I don't mind, it'll be nice to have a little company." I said and shook out my napkin before laying it down onto my lap. He still looked a little apprehensive and it almost made me laugh, the way we were acting anyone would think I was the beast and he the mystified visitor.

"If you're sure…" He said, giving me one more chance to back out as he pulled a chair out on the other side of the table.

"I'm sure." I said firmly. In actuality I wasn't really sure at all, but how could I kick him out of a place in his own house? It would've been beyond rude, whatever the circumstances were. Besides, I had promised myself last night that I would find a way to see him as Alex, as my friend. If I wasn't going to do that then all of this might just fall apart, I could feel it sliding toward the edge already.

We were both seated diagonally across the table from one another so I turned my chair a little to the right in order to make conversation better. The only problem was I didn't know what to say. This aggravated me quite a lot. Our conversations had practically been effortless when we were emailing or instant messaging, but now sitting together in the same room we couldn't find a thing to say. Finally I cut through the uncomfortable silence with the only topic I could think of: our surroundings. "This house is very nice." I said, feeling foolish. This was only a little bit better than talking about the weather, but not by very much.

Alexander looked around and nodded his head. "Yes, it's actually been in the family for quite a while. My great –great- however many great- grandfather designed and had it built back in the 1800's. It was rather small back then, I've read; from old journals and books in the library.

"But it's so large now." I said, prompting him to continue.

"Over the years it's become sort of a family tradition for each new owner to add something of their own to the house. Whether it's large or small is up to the person."

"Any…um… interesting additions?" I asked, glad the conversation was going somewhere and determined to keep it moving.

He smiled and nodded, presenting me with an easy sight of his eyeteeth; they were longer and much sharper than any human's I'd ever seen. I shivered slightly and glanced hastily away as he continued. "Back in the early 1900's one of my relatives came into the estate, she was so paranoid someone would break in and rob her that she brought hundreds of workers in to add hidden hallways and rooms into random parts of the house."

Well that explains the bathroom behind the bookcase, sort of. I thought to myself. "How many are there?" I said aloud.

Alexander shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, as soon as the builders were done she destroyed all documentations about it. "

"But her children must have known." I said, intrigued.

He shook his head, "She didn't have any; after her husband died she sort of just shut herself up in this place."

I shivered slightly, how many other people had stayed locked in the house?

"But before she died she _did_ tell her nephew about the hideaways. As soon as he inherited the estate he began looking for them, determined to find each and every one. He was convinced he had, but later his daughter discovered another one, and then his grandson unearthed a couple after her."

"And you still think there's more?" I asked, skeptical. I mean it was a big house but it wasn't _that _big.

"Counting up all the ones that have been found over the years there are about 150 so far." He paused for a moment before adding, "I actually found one last year." I could hear the hidden pride in his voice and smiled slightly.

"Will you show me?" I asked leaning forward.

He looked up at me, surprised. He probably thought you'd want to get away from him the first moment you could. I thought guiltily to myself. I bit my lip: feeling ashamed for even entertaining the idea of stealing away in the dark the night before. I looked up into his face, something I hadn't done for more than a second or two throughout the conversation, and gave him a smile. "Come on, I want to see." He tapped a finger on the table and as if that decided it stood up and began to move away from the table and down towards the door. I followed after him as quick as I could, he walked so fast! We came to a floor I hadn't really spent much time on, mostly because a lot of the doors had been locked tight. Alex came to one such door put his shoulder against it and his hand on the doorknob. In one movement he turned the knob and pushed inward on the door. A shove that would've taken me a running start to put as much power into as he did in one go and with that opened the door.

I trailed in after him with my mouth hanging open. "I thought all these doors were locked!" I exclaimed.

"Nah," he said lightly, "they're just more stubborn than the other ones."

"It seems all sorts of little mysteries are being solved today." I said to myself, and turned to look at the room we were now standing in.


	11. Chapter 11

**To Irene-thewriter: I'm sorry to hear of your dissatisfaction upon reading the previous chapter. At the time I had quite a few projects that demanded most, if not all, of my attention and I was only able to put things aside for a short addition to the story. Hopefully you will find this newest chapter to be reaching your expectations. **

**Chapter Eleven**

SAMANTHA

I glanced around the room searching for signs of a hidden doorway or lever that might trigger the opening of a secret room but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just a lot of gold and brocade. I let out a little chuckle, I had only been here for a short while and already I was starting to think of such glamorous designs in a room as ordinary. "So," I said, still searching the room with my eyes. "where did you find it?"

"Here" He said, moving towards a corner of the room, and pushed one of the smaller paintings hanging on the wall. As the frame became askew a part of the floor slowly lowered away. I moved closer to Alex and looked down. Stairs had formed at our feet into a room I was pretty sure wasn't on the floor beneath us.

I looked down at the finely carved steps and the far away golden floor it led to. "Whoa." I breathed.

He cocked his head towards the opening, "Would you like to go down?" I nodded my head enthusiastically and motioned for him to go first.

The descent was long and steep and I clutched the banister that had rolled out along with the stairs. Almost reaching the bottom I suddenly stumbled and fell forward, my arms frantically out in front of me to soften the fall. Alex quickly moved forward and grabbed my arms in order to steady me.

"You alright?" he asked giving me what looked to be a small smile. His nearness made the breath in my lungs disappear, taking my voice along with it. Suddenly I was terribly afraid. A distant part of my mind wondered at this; I hadn't been afraid when I'd seen him in the dim lighting of the room the night before. Full of surprise and incredulity perhaps, but only a little fear, and again only an hour earlier in the dining room I had felt immeasurable anxiety in what to say or how to act, but it was only now that true and completely undiluted terror coursed through me as I felt his hands holding onto my arms, remembered the claws connected to those hands and realized that this was in fact a beast standing in front of me and not the human being I was pretending he was. All this came on in a matter of seconds but Alex saw it, felt it, and let go. Stepping back he put both hands behind him and looked away from me. I blinked and realized my heart was thumping like a loud drum in my chest. The small part of my mind that had been marveling only seconds ago at my apparent fear now reared up to the front of my thoughts and demanded an explanation for such a complete lack of sensibility. I wanted to apologize, but doing so would be an acknowledgment that the event had occurred in the first place, something that didn't appeal to me. So I just stood there, like a thief caught in the act, and waited for whatever would come next. Alexander's next words weren't accusatory or harsh in any way; in fact they hardly had any feeling in them at all, which was somehow worse. "It's getting late," He said quietly. "you should go." I nodded faintly and went slowly back up the stairs again.

I lay in bed for hours afterward but couldn't sleep. I felt too awful to sleep. One day in and already I had broken the promise I had made to myself. Thinking about it made the guilt I felt writhe up again into my throat and I tried gulping it down once more. Why did I have to go and act like that? He hadn't done anything wrong. All he did was catch me, he'd done what any other person would've done. _But he's not a person_, I thought. _And that's the difference_. My own shallow reasoning gave way to frustration "He **is** a person." I said softly to the air around me. _I need a distraction, just a little one, just something to do until I can fall asleep. _Suddenly I remembered a music room that I had discovered in my attempt to find Alex. I could play the piano fairly well and it helped whenever I was feeling unhappy or angry. Throwing away the covers I stood up and went to the door and up to the music room.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

ALEXANDER

I stood in the golden room a while longer after Samantha left, thinking about what had just transpired when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I looked up to see Jonathan staring back at me; he gave a small smile and continued on into the room. "I just happened to see Miss Miller a few moments ago, although she did not see me." There was a pause, "She seemed upset." He said finally, the quiet words still managing to magnify themselves throughout the room. I didn't need to explain myself, Jonathan was smart, and he could probably guess what had happened or something very close to it at least.

I turned my head away, "I can't do this John, I don't know how." I slowly walked over to one of the windows to look out at the grounds, there was no moon tonight and everything was hidden in darkness. "How am I supposed to convince her to trust me? It's a miracle she's even talking to me." I could hear his footsteps grow nearer until we stood side by side.

"It is hard, Alexander, I understand." John said solemnly. "But you must at least try, for it will be even more difficult if you do not. You know yourself; you know who you are, who you really are. Show her that, do not forget; do not let her forget the friendship that you two have shared. That is what you can do. That is all you _can_ do, you must trust her with the rest."

"And if I fail?" I questioned. "What if I can't make her see?"

"I will be there for you, Alex. As I always have. That is one thing you can depend on. Come," he said as he moved away from his position by the window. "It's getting late; things won't look so dreary in the morning."

But I couldn't sleep that night, my mind kept whirling around what had gone wrong and everything else that might go wrong with it. I began to pace my room, and when that wasn't enough I started to wander through the hallways. After half an hour of walking I turned a corner and stopped short. A small echo was coming from somewhere, sounding faintly of music, and I turned my head to listen. Following it through the hall and down a short flight of stairs it became louder and louder until I found it's source behind a door slightly ajar. Carefully I pushed it open even further and looked inside. It was Sam, sitting in the center of the music room, surrounded by instruments with the grand piano in front of her, her head resting lightly on the top of its closed lid; her fingers playing the keys softly and without looking at them. I couldn't help it, I walked into the room and sat down in an empty seat, entranced by this small midnight concert. I watched as her hands danced across the keyboard, perfectly synchronized with each other, never stopping, never faltering. Her fingers moved so delicately yet the sound they produced filled the entire room and seemed to flit off into the adjoining spaces surrounding it. The music was beautiful, clear and lush, and I smiled to myself as I watched her play. Her head lay facing mine, but she did not see me, her eyes were closed and as I watched I saw a small smile of her own come onto her face as she continued to play.

As the song drew to a close I stood up to go, intending to leave as quietly as I had come in, but in that instant her eyes slowly opened and I saw the light of the room reflect across the brown irises, turning them a golden amber. I waited for the look of fear to flow across them as she saw me, just as they had earlier today but it didn't happen. I saw only surprise and startlement pan across her features but then her expression cleared and she stood up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't wake you up, did I?" I shook my head swiftly.

"No, it's all right, I wasn't asleep yet." And the quiet of the house seeped in once more.

"You play very well." I said, after a moment, not wanting the harsh silence to completely overrun the echoes of music that could still faintly be heard. She smiled at my compliment and I was momentarily filled with a ridiculous rush of pleasure at having made her smile. She opened her mouth again and this time found words to say.

"Thank you," she said with a good-natured laugh. "It's nice to hear. Sometimes I think that I do play well but then I hear a pianist play in a concert or on television who is, I know, ten times better than me and I'll go back to the piano despairing of having any worthwhile talent at all."

"I thought you sounded like a professional, just now. I didn't even know you played though, you never told me."

She shrugged, embarrassed. "The subject never really came up and I didn't want to sound as if I were bragging."

"I'm sure you wouldn't have sounded like that. How long have you been playing, anyway?"

She blushed slightly, "Since I was eight." She said.

My mouth dropped open a little at this, since she was eight! I had never had the patience or will to stay with something that required so much effort and I told her so.

"Oh, believe me I didn't have a choice. My dad loves music; when I was eight he told me flat out he thought it would be a great idea if I learned an instrument. In other words I had to learn one. He wanted me to study two, but that's where my mom put her foot down."

The thought of this made me laugh. "So why did you choose the piano?"

"Well my dad said I had to learn an instrument but that I could choose whichever one I wanted. I decided to pick the easiest one I could think of and told him I wanted to learn how to play the triangle."

"And I'm guessing he didn't buy it." I said, smiling.

"No," she said with a sigh of mock-unhappiness. "So I gave him my next best attempt and told him how I would love to learn about the fine art of the tambourine."

"I take it that didn't work out either." I said, warming to the conversation.

"No it did not, and my dad said that if I couldn't pick a, and I quote, 'real instrument' he would choose one for me; and he warned me it would be something very ridiculous and very difficult, like the bandura."

"What the heck is a bandura?" I asked laughing at the absurdity of it.

"I have no idea," she said chuckling. "But he told me I would have to learn it if I didn't pick an instrument that was at least a bit more challenging than a triangle, so I chose the piano."

"And are you glad you did?"

She nodded thoughtfully, rubbing one of her fingers across an ivory key. Feeling the conversation had reached its end I once again complimented her on her playing and said a short goodbye before turning to leave. As I reached the doorframe I heard her call my name and turned back to look at her. Glancing down she bit her lip before lifting her head back up to me and said, "I'm sorry about this afternoon Alex."

I looked away from her to the polished wood of the door. She didn't need to apologize, it wasn't her fault. She walked towards me until I had to meet her eyes for they were in the very spot I was staring so diligently at.

"I'm sorry." She said again, "I shouldn't have acted that way, I was surprised and I…"

"Sam," I said, cutting her off. "we both know why you acted the way you did."

"But it doesn't mean it was right." She said quietly, but firmly.

I took a deep breath, before saying what had been on my mind for weeks now. "I know this isn't what you were expecting. I know I'm not what you were expecting, and I would understand completely if you decided to go." I stood watching her as I waited for her decision, hoping she would stay.

"Do you want me to?" she asked.

"Of course not, I-"

She interrupted me. "Then I won't." She grinned and gave my arm a swift pat. "We're friends." She said simply, as if it answered everything, and shrugged. "I don't just leave my friends.

"Now," Sam said, trying to bring some ease back into the conversation. "We should probably go to bed before John finds us both here asleep in a doorway."

I smiled and we both walked out of the room and downstairs. "'night Alex." She said as she moved away towards her bedroom. "Goodnight Sam." I said quietly and walked away towards my own.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews everyone! I really enjoy reading them. Lotte Rose 37: Thanks so much for your enthusiasm! Don't miss too many dinners though, you can't read if you starve to death! :) Get comfortable guys, this one's a doozy. I hope it isn't too dark for anyone, but I think you'll enjoy it!**

**Chapter Twelve **

ALEXANDER

As I lay in bed that night my mind ran back and forth between many different things, but all thoughts eventually fell onto the image of Samantha, playing the piano. Her face pale and smooth in the light. I shook my head and opened my eyes. "What am I doing?" I asked aloud. The question was answered easily. Getting carried away, that's what you're doing. She's here for, what; two weeks? And you're already infatuated with her. _Though, _I thought to myself, _it's hard not to at least like someone when they're not completely mortified by your appearance. _Maybe… no. It was impossible, I couldn't break through this trap I had fallen into so it was no use pulling her in as well. _Then why did you want her to come? _ I asked myself. But I was too tired by then to question and doubt myself any longer, at least until morning; and shutting my eyes, went to sleep.

Hours later, I woke with a start. Sitting up I held my head in my hands, recalling the dream I had had, the same one that had woken me night after night with painful remembrance. It should've long ceased to be surprising. I dreamed of her so often that I should have been used to it. But I wasn't. It almost seemed fitting in a way, she tormented me with constant reminders of what she had done while I was awake, why should it be any different when I closed my eyes to sleep? Laying back down again I remembered where I'd first met her, Aleisha.

I hadn't always lived in England, before my dad died I had stayed in California with him. Mom and he had split a little while after I was born and we never heard from her. It had happened a few months after my eighteenth birthday and I fell out of contact with a lot of friends afterwards. In hindsight it was probably better that I had; almost as if it had been some sort of practice run, to see if I could handle the isolation. Since I was legally an adult Mom hadn't bothered to fly down from whatever country she lived in to play guardian, but Jonathan was there to help; he had always been a close friend of my father's and had taken on the job of controlling all business affairs until I could take the reins. I don't think I could have handled things if he hadn't been there. My dad had been pretty wealthy and because of that, I became pretty wealthy. It didn't matter though, I'd lost my family. Nothing was going to change that.

As I slowly began to feel less crummy I left the house more often. I'd been in a music store the day I saw Aleisha. Looking up from a cd rack I'd seen this gorgeous girl staring at me out of the corner of her eye. My small grin had been all the encouragement she needed.

"That's my favorite." She'd said, nodding to the cd I was holding.

"Yeah," I'd replied. "They're great."

"I'm Aleisha." She answered sticking out a hand, browned by the Californian sun.

"Alex," I smiled.

"Do you wanna go get a drink or something?"

"Oh, uh, I don't know." I said slowly. It wasn't so much that I didn't want to. She was so beautiful; how could I not? But I felt apprehensive about the whole situation, who was this girl? Was she seriously asking me out after a two second conversation?

"Come on." She wheedled, flashing me a glowing smile. "It'll be fun."

Her expression was contagious and I found myself smiling almost as widely as she was. "Okay."

Aleisha and I began dating after that day, I'd had girlfriends before, but not since my father's death. It was good to have one again, and Aleisha was wonderful. She was a runner and loved everything competitive. We would go out jogging together every morning, and because of this I began to see more and more of the friends I'd left behind so suddenly the year before. Everyone said we were the perfect couple, everyone commented on how perfectly matched we were. But as time went by, things began to change. Aleisha became more controlling; she would call constantly at the most random hours, demanding to know where I was. She was cruel and hurtful in an underhanded hypocritical sort of way. She was courteous and kind to others, until of course those others were out of hearing range. I could hardly believe what I was seeing, it disgusted me. Finally I confronted her, told her I had had enough; that we were over.

"You can't break up with me." She scoffed, as if the act had never yet been attempted, something I could almost believe.

"Believe me, Aleisha, I can and I am." And with that I left, never thinking I would see her again. I was wrong. Weeks passed, I slowly began to put her out of my mind. People asked every now and then- where was the hot chick I had been dating, why weren't we going out anymore, what had I done wrong? But for the most part she was forgotten. That is until one night about two months later; sometime after midnight I woke up to the sound of my name softly being whispered into my ear. I opened my eyes to see Aleisha standing over me, a wicked grin curling the corners of her mouth.

"Hello Alex." She said just as softly. I leapt out of bed and she thankfully moved away to lean against my dresser, one hand casually supported on its ledge.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, bewildered while I waited for my heart to slowly return to its normal pace.

"I came to see you again." Aleisha replied. I looked at her warily, she exuded all the calmness and control of a hungry predator, ready to strike.

"What do you want?" I demanded fervently in a vain attempt to stall for time. One thing I knew, this girl was crazy. I needed to get out.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?" She asked, her voice accusatory.

I stared at her incredulously. What the hell was she talking about? I decided to ignore it and remind her of where this relationship, if you could call it that, stood. "Aleisha," I said slowly, "we're separated. I broke up with you more than a month ago."

"No!" she suddenly screamed, quickly advancing towards me. I backed away until I was against the wall, but I refused to yield. "It's over Aleisha." I whispered sternly. Her hands quickly shot out and grabbed my wrists, she was strong; stronger than I could have possibly imagined, without warning my skin began to burn and I opened my mouth in a silent scream.

"It's not over until _I_ say it is." She said with a harsh voice, and just as quickly let go. I collapsed onto the floor. My whole body was on fire, it felt like I was being dismantled and quickly pieced back together again, without much concern for the finished result. I closed my eyes and tried to will away the pain, but it wouldn't acquiesce and only became stronger. After what felt like a century the awful sensations slowly disappeared and I was left lying on the floor, feeling as weak as an infant. Gradually I lifted my head up, wiping a hand across my face as I did so. But the hand wasn't mine, it was covered in fur with claws protruding from each fingertip. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe. _That's not my hand, not my hand, that's __not__ my hand_… I thought over and over again, willing it to be true. A surge of adrenaline pulsed through me and I jumped up and sprang to a small mirror in the corner, sure of what I would see. But my reflection didn't meet me; someone had stolen it, taken it away and replaced it with a monster's. I was going into shock. Aleisha. I whirled towards her.

"What have you done to me?" I shouted, but it wasn't my voice that spoke, it was a strange, foreign voice; what's worse: the words came out in a roar.

She stared at me, a satisfied smirk covering her face, and shrugged. "It's your own fault really." She stated, not answering my question. "Did you actually think you could end it so easily? Did you really think I would let you throw me aside? Allow another girl to take my place?" I stared at her, my horror mounting. "You wouldn't have me, and now I've made sure… that no one has you."

I couldn't wrap my mind around it, it wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. "How?" I whispered.

Her laugh was as it had always been, delicate and lilting, but for the first time I detected the barest hint of malice in it. "Oh, Alex." Aleisha said, as she sauntered over to where I stood, her voice dripping with condescension. "Don't be naïve. Did you honestly think that with all those fairy tales out there, told over countless generations throughout the world- what with their faeries and witches, sleeping princesses and glass slippers… did you really think none of that was true?"

I looked at her, speechless. "You humans," she said scornfully, as she walked across the room towards the door. "you always give yourselves more credit than you deserve. You're not that imaginative, you know." As she reached for the doorknob I found my voice.

"You can't just leave me like this!" Aleisha paused, and turned to look at me over her shoulder.

"I can and I am." She said, flinging my own words back at me.

"Please." I said in desperation. The smile left and was replaced with a hard calculating look.

"I suppose you're right, it would hardly be sporting to simply walk out now." She fingered the knob thoughtfully. Seeming to have reached a decision she turned around again. "I will give you… ten years."

"Ten years?" I repeated slowly. "For-for what?"

"To find a girl." She answered, as if it were obvious. But it wasn't obvious, my world had just been thrown upside down; nothing was making sense anymore. She gave an exasperated sigh and walked further into the room. "If you can find one girl, just one, whom you can love truly and completely… and who'll readily admit to loving you: I'll let you go. You'll be free of me, the curse, everything." I let out a sigh of resignation and disbelief, as if that would ever happen. "But," she added, reading my thoughts. "If you can't, I get you. Forever." I shuddered at the thought of it, and knew with certainty that, curse or no, I'd rather be like this than tied to her forever. "So…" she concluded holding out her hand just as she had in the music store so many months ago. "Do we have a deal?" I looked into her face and she smiled once more, knowing I wouldn't refuse. Looking away, I took her hand and shook it. "Deal."

"See you in ten years." She laughed as her footsteps faded down the hallway.

But her arrival came much sooner than that. Almost every week I would dream of her, of what she had taken from me. And it was always the same, in a poorly lit room Aleisha stood over me while I changed into a monster, watching with a malevolent smirk. But tonight, for the first time in three years, the dream had changed. As I lay on the floor in a crumpled heap, feeling the pain of the transformation, something off to the side caught my attention. It was Samantha, standing far off to the left of me, looking towards Aleisha with a mixture of shock and anger lining her features. A part of me marveled at how different the two were. Aleisha was all brightness and light compared with the pale skin and dark russet hair that Samantha claimed; and while the girl facing me was languid and relaxed the other was taut and rigid, fists clenched. But the pain refused to be forgotten and surged through me with more strength than ever, causing me to cry out involuntarily. As if in slow motion Samantha turned her head away from Aleisha to stare at me, her anger disappeared and was replaced with sadness and despair.

Awake now I thought back to the dream, wondering what it meant. I remembered the disconsolate feeling I had seen in Samantha's eyes. Was there a part of her that cared for me? Or was it only that I hoped for there to be one? I didn't know. But her being there at all had been comforting in of itself; Aleisha wasn't the only one anymore who captured my innermost thoughts, Sam was there now too. I wasn't alone anymore.

**Hey guys! So the beginning of this chapter was from Alex's POV again, tell me if you like/dislike it; there's just some things that are easier to explain if he narrates them directly instead of explaining them through Sam. BTW, I forgot to mention in the last chapter that the song Sam plays on the piano is The Heart Asks the Pleasure First by Michael Nyman**


	13. Chapter 13

**So I guess I decided to take some time off huh? We'll just call it was sabbatical. Professors take them, why can't I? Anyway, sorry for the delay if you were checking for new chapters. Note: There is a small time lapse at the beginning, if I kept writing the story day by day we would've been here forever. **

**Chapter Thirteen**

SAMANTHA

As the days passed Alex and I spent more and more time together. We became comfortable in each other's company. We met every day, took walks, watched television. But neither of us ever ran out of things to say, stories to tell. It was better than any letter or email might have been. And as each day moved into the next I found myself forgetting more and more easily how he looked. Thinking of how nervous I had been around him in the beginning was like examining another person's emotions on the matter; they were recognizable, but completely different to how I felt now. I suppose I should've started to feel restless, it had been more than few months since I had come to visit Alex, but I wasn't; the plan had always been for me to stay an entire year, and at times I found myself wishing that it could be longer. But Alex would ask, if there wasn't some place I wanted to visit; something I wished to see. "You've been in England all this time, without ever seeing it." he would say. But I brushed him off, telling him I didn't mind. It wasn't so much that I didn't _want _to see England, rather the thought of seeing it alone, with no one else to share the experience with, seemed, in my mind, a very unattractive idea. Besides, the whole estate I found myself on was so humongous that it didn't appear to me that I was very far away from the world at all.

One day though, Alex asked me again if I would like to go somewhere, act like a tourist for a little while. We were in the music room, and I was playing the piano as we talked. It had been the routine for some time to do so every once in a while after dinner. As he brought the subject up again I slowly finished the piece before turning to face him, leaning against the piano.

"Well that all depends on what you have in mind." I said teasingly, laughing a little. "Where would you have me go? What would you have me do?"

He looked away as if he hadn't even considered it. So full with trying to persuade me to go he had probably not planned out what he thought I should see if I went. "Anywhere," He said after a pause. "Everywhere. You can travel the whole of London, and then tell me all about it when you get back." His tone was still light, but a new thought occurred to me then: perhaps thoughts of my boredom were not the only reason Alex had of wanting me to go out and see the sights.

"All right, then. I'll go." I said simply and turned back to the keys to play a little more.

The next day, true to my word, I dressed and walked down the stairs, purse in tow, ready for my expedition out into the city. Jonathan was waiting for me at the doorway and I followed him out to the car I had travelled in the day of my arrival. I had hoped to see Alex before leaving, my plan was to get something for him while we were out, but I hadn't the foggiest idea of what he would want. I guess it would just have to be a surprise.

London was amazing, walking through the city was like walking through time, you would see a McDonalds or a J. Crew on one street but then, turning the corner, you would suddenly pass by an ancient stone statue of some long ago king or war hero and up ahead would be a massive building that looked like it had been there for a thousand years (it probably had) and could stand there for another thousand years if it wanted to.

We went to various shops for souvenirs and most of it was the usual cheap stuff, costing about ten bucks too much and made in such a way that you just knewit would break the minute you left. I couldn't find anything that Alex might want, need, or find any interest in whatsoever and I worried about coming back empty handed. I wanted to bring him something. Almost giving up hope entirely I spotted a tiny shop at the end of the street and I walked towards it, hoping that it might be something worthwhile, but my shoulders slumped when I realized it was only a scrapbooking store. I wasn't one for arts and crafts; I didn't really have enough patience any of it and had decided long ago that if I ever did try it at all it would be when I was really old and into stuff like cats and knitting. The air started to mist around me and I turned around to ask John if we could take the car back to the house, but just then inspiration clapped me on the head and I turned back around toward the shop, hurrying inside before I could change my mind.

We arrived back at chateau about an hour later and I hurriedly moved up the stairs and into my room. Throwing my packages onto the bed I headed to my computer. A while back I had been in a photography class, the teacher (a old man named Mr. Whastot who I'm quite sure hated me with every rheumatic bone in his body, though I'm not sure why) required that I buy a high tech digital camera for the class, it was so expensive and such a nice piece of equipment that instead of selling it to someone else after the class I had kept it and coincidentally brought it with me to England. Connecting the camera to a USB cord I proceeded to download and print all the pictures I had taken before flinging them out on the bed in front of me so I could arrange and organize them the way I wanted. Completely losing track of the time I jumped when I heard the knock at my door.

"Sam?" Alex voiced called tentatively from the other side. "Are you coming down for dinner?"

Dinner. I had completely forgotten, but the sudden groans emitting from my stomach pulled it up to the front of my mind.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a sec." I called before hurriedly stuffing everything back into their respective bags and under my bed. A few minutes later I rushed out the door, bumping into Alex I fell backwards. I shut my eyes reflexively, waiting for the moment when I would land painfully on the floor underneath us, but nothing happened. Slowly I opened my eyes and saw Alex standing above me. He pulled me upright and I was suddenly very conscious of his arms around my waist. All at once I felt incredibly dizzy and I gripped his arm to steady myself.

"That was close." He laughed. I smiled quickly before looking away. "Are you alright?" he asked, suddenly. "You look pale."

I looked back up at him and shook my head. "I'm just hungry is all, let's go down and eat." He nodded and we walked downstairs. But when we entered the dining room I realized that my hand was still grasping his arm and I blushed, hoping he wouldn't see.

**I know this chapter is short but it's hard to start again after, like 7 months. I have some good ideas for upcoming chapters so this one is kinda a jumping off point to those. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello and Happy New Year guys! One of my new year's resolutions is to finish this thing, so here's the very first chapter of 2010. Thanks so much to gray seal, AngelsOfTheDead, cluts808, and kate 5 for reviewing. I'm glad you guys are still reading. **

**Chapter Fourteen**

ALEXANDER

I was falling in love with her. We would eat dinner together, talk, or hang out and I found myself lost, I couldn't concentrate on anything but her. Samantha. The way her eyes crinkled upward when she laughed, how her voice sounded when she became especially passionate about something- particularly music. Watching her as she played the piano, her hands moving delicately and assuredly over the keys; imagining what it would be like to have those fingers around my own. It came as sort of a shock, I'd wanted before, to love her, in order to break the curse Aleisha had put on me. I had liked her, definitely, when I read her letters, sent her emails, but I didn't know that I loved her. Not until I saw her that day.

It had been a cold afternoon but I had wanted to get out of the house, take a walk. Before Samantha had come I had felt resigned to my fate, I knew there was nothing I could do but wait for Aleisha to claim what she sought. But lately I was feeling restless. Turning a corner I saw Sam, leaning against a tree. The wind whipped around her like a playful friend, twirling and messing her hair. I stopped short and leaned against a wall of the house, the stones cold beneath my shirt. Suddenly, I closed my eyes trying to imagine what it would've been like, to be human and know her, to be human and love her.

_I walked up to the tree and stood in front of her. She looked up at me with a small smile, a puzzled expression in her eyes. Slowly, carefully, I reached out to touch her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin under my fingertips before bending down and kissing her. Laying my hand at the small of her back I held her, pressing her closer to me…._

"Alex? Are you alright?" Startled I opened my eyes to find Sam looking up at me, confused.

"Fine," I quickly replied. "I was just thinking of something."

"Well come inside," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. "It's cold out here, and more importantly- I have something I want to show you." Smiling I let her lead me into the house, liking the way her hand fit so nicely into mine.

SAMANTHA

I pulled Alex up the stairs and through the halls of the house until we reached my room. Turning to him I smiled at the expectant look on his face. "Now," I said, my tone conspiratorial, "close your eyes." He went along with me and shut them. I opened the door behind my back, making sure he kept his eyes shut and then pulled him into the middle of the room before turning to my bed, leaning over I pulled out the large black book I had hidden underneath and laid it in his hands before moving away. He opened his eyes looking confused as he stared at the book.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Open it and see." I laughed, sitting down on the bed to keep myself from fidgeting.

He opened it up and slowly fingered through the pages, looking at each photograph in turn before moving on to the next one. "When did you take all these?" he asked as he moved to sit next to me.

"I first started when Jonathan took me to London that day." I said grinning. "I've been going different places every so often to fill the book."

Alex flipped through it once more, the pictures melting together until they were mere flashes of color, before turning to me. "This is perfect." He said, and I could hear the happiness in his voice.

His small comment made me feel ridiculously proud of myself "I'd hoped you would like it." I told him as he turned back to stare at the pages.

"I do," he said softly. "Very much. Now," he said, going back to the first picture. "tell me about this one." We spent the next few hours thumbing through each page while I told him the stories behind the photos. When we reached the final image in the album Alex stood up.

"Thanks for this, Sam." He said. "I can't tell you how much it means to me."

"Consider it a 'thank you'." I said, getting up to stand next to him. "For letting me come here, for…" I looked around trying to find the words. "Everything, I guess."

Alex looked down at me, his green eyes tinged with a softness I hadn't noticed before. "I'm glad you came, and I'm glad you stayed."

He looked as if he was on the verge of saying something more but suddenly a small clock in the next room chimed the hour and he turned away. "Goodnight Sam."

"'Night Alex." As the door shut softly behind him I flopped back down on the bed and let out a long sigh of happiness, exhaustion, and another feeling that I couldn't place at all.

ALEXANDER

Walking back to my room I allowed myself a small smile. Maybe this was it, the beginning of the end of this miserable existence I had been enduring for so long. She might not love me, not yet; but as I looked back down at the scrapbook in my hand, thinking of how long she must have worked at it, how perfect it seemed to be. I couldn't help but hope that maybe…maybe she was starting to care for me the way that I cared about her. I'd almost told, just then, how much I loved her. But I still wasn't sure if I could or even if I really should. It would change everything between us- for better or worse I didn't know. Reaching the door to my room I slowly went inside and shut it behind me, whatever I did it would have to be soon, the year was almost up, she would be going home soon and I would be right back to where I had been before, with nothing to show for it except three years lost. Fear gripped me suddenly…three years, they had gone by so quickly, too quickly. I remembered, every day I remembered, the words Aleisha had spoken to me that night.

"_If you can find one girl, just one, whom you can love truly and completely… and who'll readily admit to loving you: I'll let you go. You'll be free of me, the curse, everything." "But, if you can't, I get you. Forever."_

Three years had already slipped through my fingers, how fast would the next seven go?

THIRD PERSON- ALEISHA

Aleisha watched the girl, her beautiful face distorted into a mask of ferocity as she stared at the sleeping figure. This pale, weak little nothing was ruining all she had worked so hard to attain! No one was supposed to have him, no one was supposed to _love_ him. Aleisha had thought she'd made sure of that when she'd changed him. But now here was this girl, this gangly _child_: sleeping in his house, making him laugh, acting as if he was any other human- not the monster she'd made him into.

_The way he looks at the girl, it was enough to make you sick._

Sick. Aleisha grinned, that was a good idea, she thought as she cocked her head. The girl couldn't have him if she was dead. These humans were so malleable, like autumn leaves under your feet; one well placed step and crunch, they were broken. Aleisha softly chuckled at the thought. She almost did it, just then in the room. Walking to the side of the bed she raised her hand. One well placed piece of magic and Alex would be hers again, no intrusions, no one meddling in affairs that weren't even theirs to begin with. But then the girl shifted in her sleep and Aleisha lowered her arm, a new idea forming. She would wait, bide her time for a little longer. It was obvious to her that he loved this girl, but her affections on the other hand weren't so completely readable. She knew Alex, she had watched him for some time, he would tell the girl his feelings sooner or later and there was a very good chance that when that time came the girl would refuse him, shatter his hopes.

_I can be there then_. Aleisha mused. C_omfort him, show him how wrong he had been to believe in something that wasn't real in the first place._ And if she was wrong?

_I can always kill the girl later. No harm no foul; for myself anyway._

**Alright then, Aleisha's back (and being creepier than ever) you'll see more of her in upcoming chapters. Remember to review! I need to know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong. **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Whoa, long time no see right? But I'm determined to finish this story come Hell or high water. Even it takes me 10,000 years. (Which by the looks of it, it just might.) Not too many more chapters left I think, the end is in sight, the sidewalk is about to end. For those of you who've stayed with me through my long boughts of procrastination I thank you. Big shout out to Answer for sorting of inspiring me to get the ball rolling once more with her great review and encouraging message. Enjoy! **

…**..**

**Chapter Fifteen **

SAMANTHA

It was almost two in the morning and I still couldn't sleep, pulling back the covers I got up and moved away from the dingy mattress. Its springs creaked under even the slightest amount of pressure and sounded like they were in their last death throws as I pushed myself off the mattress. Opening the door I stepped out onto what served as a poor excuse for a balcony and looked down. Even if the peeling wallpaper and musty smell of the hotel room behind me hadn't served as a constant reminder of what had happened and where I was now the lights of the street coupled with the sounds of late night sidewalk stragglers before me would have.

The hotel was in the Kensington District but the place was as far from being a palace as a building could possibly be. The carpet was threadbare but what was still visible- a diamond pattern of yellow, red, and green so repulsive it could make a blind man reel- was garish to say the least. Pulling the small dining chair out onto the balcony with me I sat down and ran a hand across my face and through my hair. In my head a myriad of emotions did battle with one another over a dominant position but the one that seemed to keep winning out was guilt. I closed my eyes, a poor attempt at blocking out everything that had happened, but it was no good. All I saw behind the lids was Alex, his spring green eyes staring back at me with hurt and resignation. I shivered at the memory of what had gone on only hours before.

…

We had been sitting together near the edge of the pond. Scooting forward I dipped my feet into the water, then stretched out before lying on my back to look up at the sky.

"It's so pretty out here. I love how easy it is to see the stars." I said, a small breeze twirling around my head.

Alex looked down at me and smiled. He went outside more often now, I'd bugged him repeatedly about keeping me company when I took walks around the grounds that finally he'd relented and I think he enjoyed it, being out in the open. It made me wonder just how long he had spent inside. We were spending more time than ever with one another, I would be leaving to go back home next week. We didn't talk about it but I knew he was aware of the passing time just as much as I was. A few more minutes went by when finally Alex spoke.

"Sam can I tell you something?" he asked, not looking at me.

I turned my head towards him. "Of course." I said, wondering what could be making him so serious all of a sudden.

He took a deep breath before standing up, with his back to me he started to speak but then stopped again, curious now I stood up too and stood a little bit behind him. "What is it Alex?" I whispered, knowing that something important was about to happen.

He turned slightly and bent his head down to look at me and in a voice that was even quieter than mine had been he told me he loved me.

Startled, I flinched and moved back a few feet. "You what?" I asked him, my brain suddenly unable to register the simple sentence that had just been thrown my way.

"I love you Samantha." He said again, eyes fixed with worry.

I took another step back, "I… I don't know…" Don't know what? I wondered blindly, if I could believe it? No, I couldn't believe it, I wouldn't. Believing it would mean acceptance, it would mean that I would have to face this strange new territory we had suddenly entered into. And I wasn't ready to do that, not now, not ever. I felt as I had that first night we had met in that hidden room so many months ago. Words weren't coming out with the ease that they usually did, I didn't know where to look, how to stand, what to do.

"Alex, I value our friendship very much, I do like you. I just…" I sputtered, every phrase a silly cliché that made me squirm as I said them.

Alex waved one hand in the air as if to push away my words from his face. "You don't need to explain." He said as he walked past me and back up to the house once more. "I understand."

His words were accusing, the unspoken statements swirling around me: "I understand…." _You're just like the others. Why would you be any different? Why did I think you could be any different? _Tears started to well up in my eyes as I continued to stand out on the lawn, staring at the dark shadows on the grass around me, not really seeing them. I don't know how long I stood out there when I was finally jolted back to reality. Moving forward I started to make my way up to the house before stopping short. I couldn't go back there. I realized to myself, I couldn't come down to breakfast the next morning and see Alex, his eyes- looking back at me as they had tonight- sadness mixed with anger and, even worse, disappointment. I wouldn't be able to stand it. After all that had happened, I just couldn't. Pulling out my cell I called a taxi to come pick me up. Thankfully I had just enough money for the ride and a stay at a cheap motel. I would figure out what to do in the morning, sooner or later I'd have to go back for my stuff but not now. Not tonight.

…

ALEXANDER

I sat in my room, staring at the empty fireplace. The chill of the room seeped out of the air and into my skin, like a disease. How could I have been so stupid? Why, why did I tell her I loved her? What had I expected, really? Imagine it, a monster telling you they love you. I wasn't even human, for God sakes, no wonder she'd been so disgusted.

"_I value your friendship"_ I laughed to myself. The words twisting around and around in my head, making my stomach churn as I remembered the look of shock and sympathy that had crossed over her face as she tried to think of a way to let me down easy. To tell me that the whole idea disgusted her.

_Probably how Aleisha felt._

The thought snapped into my head so quick it was almost as if someone else had said it out loud. For the first time in forever I thought back to how I had rejected her. But it was completely different, I told myself, she was crazy. Look what she did to me! Wasn't that proof enough that she was more than a little… unstable?

"Completely different." I muttered to myself. _But was it really? _That small voice I would much rather have ignored asked me. I suddenly imagined everything again, only from Aleisha's eyes, living for so long without ever being denied anything, anyone. And suddenly someone comes along and destroys that ideal, that vision of a world filled with people just itching to serve you with whatever you wanted. I couldn't forgive her for what she'd done. I don't think I ever could, but now I at least understood- in some small way at least- what had driven her to do it.

Suddenly the quiet was broken slightly by the sound of music being played at a distance. I sat up a little straighter, telling myself that it was my imagination; I was only hearing it because I wanted it to be real. Wanted her to be back. But as I told myself this I still walked to the door and through the halls, down the stairs to the music room.

And there she was, sitting in the dark with the piano, her hands drifting softly over the keys. Playing a sad song I'd never heard. The dark night coming in through the large window made her hair seem darker than ever. And I felt the breath in my lungs come out a little faster.

"I didn't even hear you come in."

She didn't answer, just cocked her head to the side slightly and I could tell she was listening.

"I'm sorry. For what I said earlier. It was stupid. Just…just, forget about it, you know?

She stopped playing then and started to turn around to face me. And as she did the moon finally came out and shined through the windows reflecting on Sam's hair, making it bright. Too bright. Too pale.

"Oh, Alex." Aleisha said as she walked towards me. "I knew you'd come to your senses. Sooner or later, I knew you'd come to me."

**A/N: To tell you the truth I'm not sure I'm completely satisfied with this chapter, I've been away from this narrative for so long I feel like it's hard to get back into the same tone of voice that it had before. Do you agree or not? Or do you not care a jot either way? Let the opinions fly by reviewing. Please and thank you! **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Okay, I'm so so so sorry that I haven't updated in a million years. And if you have to re-read everything to know what's happening in this chapter, I'm sorry for that too. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. There are only about two chapters left so I can see the finish line! If any of you are reading this and haven't given up on me yet: Thank you so much. Please review! Also, there is one use of semi-expletive language in this chapter so if that offends you, I'm sorry. It just seemed necessary for the context. **

* * *

**Chapter 16**

SAMANTHA

"Miss Miller?" I heard a familiar voice say across the din of the crowd.

I turned. The hotel room I'd rented had finally wasted my last nerve (honestly a coffin would have been more comfortable and probably wouldn't have reeked of BO either) so I'd decided to wander around on the streets for a bit. It was nearing one in the morning but nobody outside seemed aware of the fact… or cared if they did. The streets were still crowded with cars and pedestrians. If I'd thought my cheap hotel room had been oppressive it was nothing compared to this, being outside alone in a crowded, unfamiliar, city was ten times worse than being alone in a small dingy hotel room and a million times worse when I remembered where I _could_ be right now. Snuggling down in a huge, warm, _clean_,bed or wrapped in a large blanket watching movies with Alex on the couch…. Talking, laughing… and if it wasn't clear enough that the universe wouldn't let me forget what I was missing out on-how I'd run away like a child only a few hours before- the damn butler shows up to do the job.

I turned around to look at Jonathan, already feeling guilty. It was funny, seeing him out in the real world like this, wearing a blue polo shirt and jeans instead of the trim black suit and tie he usually had on, like seeing a teacher out of school. He was still looking at me incredulously, like he'd just seen me float ten feet off the ground and start spitting fire.

"Jonathan," I said, trying to hide my guilt. And what was there to be guilty about even? He doesn't know why I'm here. It's not like I'm an escaped convict or anything. I'm just taking a walk. People can do that, take walks. "What… what are you doing here?" I say, because he's still staring at me like he can't really believe what he's seeing.

"It's my day off Miss Miller. I was just coming back from visiting friends. But more importantly," he took a few steps towards me and looked at me with genuine concern on his face, "What are you doing here?"

And suddenly I'm crying, bawling my eyes out in the middle of a crowded street in a strange city at one in the morning. I'm crying so hard I can't even see. But I can feel people staring. Even at this time of night some social etiquette still stands. Huh, maybe someone should mention that to the couple I passed a few blocks away.

If I'd been alone I probably would've just stayed in the middle of the sidewalk, tears falling down my face as I tried (unsuccessfully) to stop my nose from running. But Jonathan, patron saint of calm that he is, gently takes my elbow and guides me into the nearest building, some sort of nightclub judging from the generous use of strobe lighting and dubstep blaring from the speakers, and into a dimly lit bathroom before bolting the door behind him. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket (of course he would have one, probably monogrammed and everything) he handed it to me before giving me some space to clean my face up a little bit. After the sobbing boiled down to a some hiccups every few minutes Jonathan finally spoke.

"Now tell me what happened." and he says it in that way that only parents know how to say things: calm and serious and sympathetic and no-nonsense all at once. And suddenly I'm telling him everything. Everything that happened tonight, everything that's been building (or seems to have building up to that night, this night), how I got scared and ran away, how I was staying in a cheap motel room five blocks away.

"And I just… I don't know what to do." I finally finished.

Jonathan, thankfully, didn't look like he was at such a loss for words, but the silence went on for a few more minutes before he finally asked, "And do you love him back?"

I stared at him stupidly, not sure how to react from his extremely direct question. All I can think to say is, "What?"

"It's a simple enough question Samantha. Do you love him as he loves you?"

_Yes_. It's the first word that pops into my head. Before Jonathan even had a chance to repeat the question the answer is already there, completely obvious, like someone's just asked me what two plus two equal. I don't even have to think about it, the answer's in my head. _Four, duh_ the voice says. Do you love him? _Yeah, duh_. Jonathan is still looking at me, waiting for an answer.

But I'm not ready to make it that easy, because it's not. If it was I wouldn't be standing in a bathroom that only a hazmat team should be allowed into. If it was that easy I wouldn't have left in the first place and I tell Jonathan so.

But he won't let go of the whole "be-as-direct-as-possible" thing and asks another simple question. "And why not?"

I didn't have such a quick answer for that one. Well, I did, but that was part of the problem. It would've been easier, maybe, if I didn't know the answer. At least then I wouldn't be aware of my reason for running away. I wouldn't understand what I was avoiding. But I did know. And I hated myself for it. Hated that I was this shallow. Because, in the end, it did matter that Alex was…was a beast. It mattered that we would never do the things "normal" couples did. Go out, grab drinks, hang out with friends, be so disgustingly sweet with one another that no one could stand to be around us. The way things stood now, that would never happen. We would be trapped. Together, yes, but still trapped. Jonathan knew what I was about to say. I could see it reflected in his eyes, but he doesn't say it either. He wasn't going to make this easy.

"You surprise me Miss Miller," he said, his voice growing cold. "I thought you were better than that. I can assure you that Alexander did. But if that's all this was, some silly flight of fancy," he said, sliding the bolt out and opening the door. "Then perhaps it was good that you left when you did." And with that, Jonathan disappeared into the pulsing crowd of heat and noise.

* * *

ALEXANDER

I slowly stepped away from Aleisha until I felt my back hit the door-frame. Grabbing it for support with one hand I threw the other out in front of me. Palm out, fingers spread.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her, trying to keep my voice steady. She flashed me a bright smile. She would have been beautiful if the look in her eyes wasn't so cold and hard.

"I came back for you." She said, her voice gentle, condescending. "I'll always come back for you Alexander." I flinched as she reached her hand up to caress my face. Suddenly her smile disappeared. "Unlike that little brat you've been keeping with you." Her hand left my face only to return moments later in a stinging slap that made my cheek and neck ache with the force of it. "What did you think would happen, Alex? When you told her you loved her, I mean. That she'd jump into your arms and smile. Ecstatic to know that she'd found a handsome animal to fall in love with her?"

My eyes widened. "How did you know about that?" I asked.

"Please." She scoffed, moving away from me to slowly wander through the room. "You think I'd honestly leave you alone to your own devices all this time without checking in on you once in a while? The only reason I allowed this silly experiment to last for as long as it did was so I could prove to you how idiotic it really was. And was I wrong?" She said, her voice laced with mocking sympathy. "You're no better off now than you were when I turned you. Worse in fact, because the person you care about, who you thought cared about you, has abandoned you. And now you have no one." For a second Aleisha's shoulders slumped, her face grim, and I almost felt like comforting her. But before I could do anything she had given herself a shake and the unhappy look was replaced with one of complete hate.

"So I'm here to offer a proposal of my own."

"I don't want to hear it." I said, disgusted. Leaving the room I walked quickly through the hallway and down the stairs. Before reaching the bottom I heard Aleisha say, "Oh, I think you do." Feeling a cold wind fly past me I turned to ask what she was up to but stopped when I saw the hand gripping the banister. It was my hand. My human hand. No claws, no fur, just skin and nails. I'd never wished so hard for a mirror in my entire life, but there weren't any around, only paintings and bare walls. In the blink of an eye Aleisha was standing beside me and the empty space I was staring at had turned into a pane of clear glass.

"Just be with me." She whispered softly into my ear. Stroking the back of my neck with the tips of her fingers. "That's all you need to do, Alex." I turned away from my reflection to look at her. "You and I, we know what it's like to be lonely, to have no one to depend on but ourselves. Be with me Alex, chose me. I won't abandon you like she did. I'll stay with you and neither of us will have to be lonely again."

I stared at the mirror again, knowing I'd never be able to go back after I made this decision. Part of me hated myself for what I was about to say. But I said it anyway.

"Until when, Aleisha?" I asked her, finally looking away from my reflection to stare at her. "Until I do something else you think is wrong? Make another mistake? When you finally get tired of having me around?" As I spoke I could feel my teeth and nails growing longer and sharper again, hear the bones in my arms and legs grinding against one another as I changed back, but I didn't care. "Yeah Sam left. I told her how I felt and…and she didn't feel the same way. But at least I always knew where I stood with her. At least she never forced me to play these stupid, idiotic, mind games like you. I could say what I wanted and I didn't have to worry about getting hexed because of it. Well forget it." I said, shoving her hand away and walking down the last few steps. "I'd rather be a beast for the rest of my life than be with you for another five minutes."

That's when the fight began. Grabbing me by the shoulder Aleisha turned me around and slammed her fist into my jaw. Before I had time to react she had grabbed me by the neck and had lifted me up into the air.

"God you're dumb." She growled as her fingers contracted around my throat. "I was planning on killing your little bitch, but now," Aleisha cocked her head, eyes narrowing. "I think I'm going to settle for you."

With force she threw me across the room and I felt my back slam into a wall. Pain burst all over as I fell to the ground, knowing that this was only the beginning.

* * *

**A/N: So what did you think? Let me know! **


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